


Angel in Cinders

by ShesAKillerQueen98



Series: Fairy Tale Omens [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Cinderella Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley First Kiss (Good Omens), Costume Parties & Masquerades, Creepy Sandalphon (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley and Beelzebub are siblings, Crowley is a Sweetheart (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Dancing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Falling In Love, Fat Shaming, Fluff, Gabriel Being an Asshole (Good Omens), Human Aziraphale (Good Omens), Human Crowley (Good Omens), Human Gabriel (Supernatural), Human Michael (Good Omens), Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love at First Sight, M/M, Magic, Mother-Son Relationship, Non-Consensual Touching, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), POV Alternating, POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), POV Crowley (Good Omens), Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Romantic Fluff, Sandalphon Being an Asshole (Good Omens), Sexual Assault, She/Her Pronouns for Michael (Good Omens), She/Her Pronouns for Uriel (Good Omens), Shy Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Beelzebub (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:34:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 50,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25076197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShesAKillerQueen98/pseuds/ShesAKillerQueen98
Summary: (Good Omens Cinderella AU) Ever since Aziraphale's mother remarried, his life has been nothing but misery. Before she died, she told him to have courage and greet the world with kindness, even if it doesn't give him the same kindness back. Lately, Aziraphale has been finding it harder to follow that advice. But when the royal family announces a masquerade ball to celebrate the birthday of the youngest prince, who bears a striking resemblance to a mysterious young man he met in town, things go from bad to worse. All he wants is to attend the festival. But perhaps with a little luck, and perhaps some magic, he can find happiness.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Fairy Tale Omens [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1816072
Comments: 844
Kudos: 455





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Physical, emotional, and sexual abuse

Gabriel was in one of his moods, and when Gabriel was in a mood, that usually meant something bad for Aziraphale. Whether it was Aziraphale that had set him off or not, the young man would usually be punished.

This had been a way of life for him since he was twelve years old. For the most part, he’d lived a happy life until then. But ever since he was placed under the care of his step-father, though if he ever called Gabriel that, he would have likely gotten a slap to the face, his life was constant misery. It got even worse whenever something set off Gabriel’s hair trigger temper. 

“Aziraphale!” He called. Oh dear, what was it this time? “Aziraphale! Get in here you lazy boy!” 

Aziraphale set the rag back in the bucket and raced from the front hall into the kitchen, where his step-father was waiting with a loaf of bread in his hands. 

“Y-yes sir?” Aziraphale stammered.

“What’s this?” Gabriel said, showing Aziraphale the loaf. 

“B-bread. I made it last night-”

“Oh you made it last night. Of course, how silly of me to forget.” Gabriel said. “There’s only one problem with that.” He snapped the loaf in half, sending crumbs scattering to the floor. “It’s completely stale. Would you care to tell me how that can be?”

Aziraphale gulped. He wasn’t sure if this was truly what upset Gabriel or if he was just taking his anger out on the poor loaf. Either way, the result wouldn’t be pretty. 

He began trembling and the movement earned him a slap to his right cheek. “I thought I told you to be more mindful of how you stored the bread. You left it on the table instead of the breadbox and your incompetence has ruined it.”

“I’m s-sorry-” Another slap came, cutting off his apology.

“You expect my family to eat this filth?” He slammed the bread onto the table. “Go into town and get some bread that isn’t stale.”

“Yes, Gabriel.”

“And if you’re not back by half past three, you won’t be getting supper!”

“Yessir.” Aziraphale squeaked as he grabbed his cloak and basket and scampered out the door.

That certainly could have gone worse. He’d only gotten a few slaps on the cheek. With any luck, Gabriel would have calmed down by the time he got home and he’d avoid a further beating. 

A crisp March breeze ruffled Aziraphale’s shirt as he stepped outside, but the early spring sun kept it from being similar to the biting winter winds that had been blowing for the past few months. Aziraphale always loved spring. Everything looked so alive and colorful and he just adored the sweet smell of new flowers. 

It would have been quicker for him to take the horse into town, but it wasn’t too far of a walk, only about fifteen minutes. Besides, the longer he was away from Gabriel, the better. Going into the town market was one of the only times he was able to get any kind of relief from his step-family. The bustle of activity was a welcome comfort and change of pace. By the time he made it to the town market, his trembling had ceased and he found himself in a calming rhythm. The shouts of the vendors, the smells of fresh baked bread and sweet fruit, the chitter of all the patrons, it was all so lovely.

“Aziraphale!” A youthful, loud voice called. Aziraphale looked to his left and saw a group of five children running towards him. The one in the front, a young lad by the name of Adam, was the one that had called him. All of them had large smiles on their faces, which Aziraphale brightly reciprocated.

“Good afternoon, children.” He greeted warmly.

“We didn’t think we’d be seeing you this week.” Said Pepper, the only girl in the group and by far the fiercest. 

“Well, I’m just stopping in to buy some bread.” Aziraphale informed them. “The loaf I baked last night seems to have mysteriously gone stale.”

Wenslydale, a small, slender lad, pushed his round glasses farther up his nose. “That doesn’t seem right. Bread doesn’t go stale that fast.”

“Tell that to Gabriel.” Aziraphale muttered to himself. He looked up at the children. “So what are you young rascals up to? Overturned farmer Tyler’s apple cart again?”

Adam grinned sheepishly. “Us? No, absolutely not, perish the thought.” 

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. “Really now, then what are you doing talking to dull old me when there are so many other fun things you could be doing?”

"You're not dull!" Pepper assured. 

"You're great!" Brian assured as he brushed some crumbs off his dirty tunic. Aziraphale flushed. The young scoundrels could be very sweet when they didn't mean to be.

"That didn't answer my question." The blond said slyly.

Warlock, the second oldest in the group rolled his eyes and smirked. “We didn’t overturn his cart, we just stole some of his apples.” 

Pepper punched him in the arm. “Tattletale.”

Aziraphale crossed his arms. “Children, I thought you would know better by now. You can’t just go around taking things from other people.” He reached into his pocket and puled out a silver coin, his last bit of personal pocket money he’d managed to scrape together that month. He still had enough for the bread, but that was just what Gabriel had given him, and any leftover money would go right back to his stepfather. “Go give this to farmer Tyler and tell him you’re sorry.” The children pouted but obliged. "Come on children, quickly now." He leaned in as if he were telling them a secret. "The next time I'm in town, I'll finish the story I've been telling you." The pouts quickly turned back into smiles as the children began running off towards the other end of the town. 

Aziraphale smiled as he watched them scamper off, not looking where he was going. He didn’t realize he wasn’t paying attention until he slammed into somebody, causing them both to fall to the ground. 

“Oi! What was that about?” The stranger grunted. 

“Oh my goodness, I’m so terribly sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going and I…I…” His explanation tampered off as he saw the face under the gray hood. For one thing, there was something eerily familiar about this face. He couldn’t put his finger on where exactly he’d seen him, but he was sure he’d seen him somewhere. But that wasn’t what caused him to stammer. This was the most handsome man he’d ever seen. Aziraphale could feel his cheeks growing red, almost as red as the young man’s flaming red hair, pulled into a tail. 

The stranger was looking at him in a very odd way. He could tell he wasn’t angry with him, but there was still something very confusing about the look he was giving him.

Somehow Aziraphale found his voice. “My sincerest apologies. I wasn’t looking where I was going and I-”

The stranger waved his hand. “’S alright. It was kind of my fault for standing in the middle of the road.” He got to his feet and offered Aziraphale his hand. If it were possible, his cheeks grew even redder. Goodness, this young man must think he was a complete goon. 

He took the stranger’s outstretched hand and the stranger pulled him to his feet, though he didn’t let go right away. Their hands stayed gently clasped around each other's for a few moments. Aziraphale studied the stranger’s face while the stranger looked at their interlocked hands, a soft kindness coming to his golden brown eyes. There was a gentle smirk on his face, causing sweet dimples to appear on his slender cheeks, dotted with freckles. Slowly, he raised his eyes, looking at Aziraphale before releasing his hand. 

“T-thank you.” Aziraphale stammered shyly. 

“So,” the stranger said, “were you heading somewhere specific or were you just looking for someone to knock over?”

“I didn’t mean to, I didn’t hurt you did I?”

The stranger chuckled. “Relax. I was only joking.” Aziraphale blushed again. “Though, if you wish to make it up to me, I’d gladly take your name as compensation for any injuries I may have acquired.”

Aziraphale let out a little laugh. “Aziraphale. Aziraphale Erzengel.” As the name left his lips, he realized his mistake. He’d accidentally used Gabriel’s last name as his own again. 

“Erzengel, why does that name sound so familiar?” Aziraphale could feel himself going pale. He’d made a mistake, he was certainly going to be punished for it. “Oh yes, now I remember. Gabriel Erzengel is one of…are you alright?” His fear must have been showing on his face. Whenever he’d uttered his name and Gabriel’s last name in the same breath, it always spelled disaster for him. His mother’s last name had been Principalitus but she had changed it to Erzengel when she married Gabriel. Technically it was Aziraphale’s last name as well, but Gabriel would become absolutely enraged when he tried act like he was part of the family. The first time he’d called himself “Aziraphale Erzengel” instead of “Aziraphale Principalitus”, he’d gotten one of the worst beatings he could remember and was refused dinner. 

“Yes.” Aziraphale murmured, lying right through his teeth. “Yes, everything’s just fine. I-I don’t believe I’ve asked for your name yet.” Anything to get the subject off of him. 

The stranger gave him a look, he obviously didn’t believe his lies, but he said nothing about it. “My name? My name’s…Crowley.” Funny. He seemed almost like he was making up a name on the spot. Either that or he was embarrassed of his name. Whatever the reason, Aziraphale wasn’t going to pester him with his foolish questions. Gabriel had been telling him for years to keep his mouth shut because of all his questioning, he didn’t want to annoy this kind young man with his impertinence. 

“Well, I’m sorry for knocking you over. I won’t keep you from your business any longer.” 

“Would you care for some company on your errand? You look rather lonely.” Crowley gave Aziraphale a smirk that wouldn’t have looked out of place on the face of the soldiers who would try and woo some of the young women in town. But on Crowley, it wasn’t an ill-meaning or seductive smirk. Well it wasn’t ill-meaning, the jury was still out on it not being seductive. But still, it was genuine and playful and almost…sweet.

“Oh no, really, it’s fine. I…I don’t want to trouble you…” he glanced to the ground, not wanting to look him in the eyes. No doubt he would be hurt by his refusal. In truth, Aziraphale had wanted to say yes, but it would be almost lying to accept the offer for company only for this kind stranger to find out what a shy and boring person he was. Besides, he most likely had a young woman or man waiting for him at home. Aziraphale was many things, but he was not a tempter, nor was he a home wrecker.

A soft hand settled against his. “It’s no trouble. I’m glad to accompany you.” A tiny flutter rose in Aziraphale’s chest and he could feel his cheeks going red again as he raised his eyes to Crowley. The gentle smirk was still on his face and there was a look of excitement in his eyes. It was so genuine that Aziraphale could feel a little smile tug at the corners of his lips as well.

“Well, if you’re sure it won’t be a bother…”

Crowley offered Aziraphale his arm. Was he supposed to take it? But, that was usually a gesture for noble men and women, not a mere servant. 

One look from Crowley quelled Aziraphale’s anxiety. “It’s not a bother. In fact, I’d call it a pleasure.” Goodness, he certainly was a suave gentleman. 

Still blushing, Aziraphale set his hand around Crowley’s arm and the two began walking towards the center of the town square.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So this idea just kinda came to me one day and I thought, okay might as well roll with it. I'm not sure if I'm the first one to write something with the husbands in a fairy tale setting but I'm still going for it.  
> I hope you liked it. Kudos and comments are very much appreciated, they make me smile.  
> Thank you for reading and have a lovely day!


	2. Chapter 2

The two young men were quiet at first. Aziraphale had been taught to never speak out of turn and he didn’t want to annoy his new companion, especially since he’d been so kind to him so far. Crowley seemed content to simply walk without saying anything, but Aziraphale was used to always having some kind of chatter fill the empty space, either from Gabriel or from his stepsisters, not that Michelle and Uriel talked about anything meaningful or intelligent…oh dear, if Gabriel had heard him say that, he’d really get it.

“Ngk!” Crowley let out a slight groan and Aziraphale realized he’d absentmindedly been tensing his hand, accidentally giving Crowley’s arm a tight squeeze.

“Oh my goodness!” Aziraphale gasped. “I’m so terribly sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you again-“

“It’s no trouble, really.” Crowley assured. “Trust me, this arm has had far worse.” 

A weak laugh escaped from Aziraphale before he could stop himself and he went pale as soon as he realized what he’d done. “My apologies, I shouldn’t have laughed.”

“No need to apologize, it was sort of funny when you think about it.”

Aziraphale glanced at the ground again. “It was rude of me.”

They stopped walking and Crowley turned to face Aziraphale. Oh dear, perhaps his chattering had annoyed him. He flinched, waiting for a slap or an insult, but instead, two large, warm hands enveloped his.

“Listen, when I say you don’t need to apologize, I truly mean it.” Crowley said gently. “You honestly did nothing wrong.” Aziraphale did his best to stop his hands from quivering, but it was no good. A gentle squeeze came from Crowley’s hand. “Please, you don’t need to be so hard on yourself.”

“Well, I…” Aziraphale stammered. Gabriel had told him ever since he was twelve that he needed to make a proper effort to uphold the family name and that if he felt obliged to be a lazy, disrespectful, scoundrel, then he would be punished. He had a standard to uphold and he couldn’t let himself slip ever. Wasn’t that how it worked for everyone? 

Aziraphale took a long, good look at the young man who was holding his hands. From the looks of his clothes, he was a nobleman, but he acted nothing like Gabriel or any of the other nobles he’d encountered during Gabriel’s many dinner parties or Michelle and Uriel’s salons. They were all stiff and uppity, many of them refused to even look at Aziraphale. But Crowley? He was so relaxed and he spoke to Aziraphale as if they were on an equal level. Perhaps he simply didn’t understand that when Aziraphale did something wrong, he deserved to be punished. 

He dropped his eyes again. “I honestly do.” He murmured. “I need to keep myself in line and be a good representative of the family. When I do something wrong, I need to correct myself.”

A pained look came over Crowley’s face but he said nothing.

Soon enough they came to the bakery. It was one of Aziraphale’s favorite places to go throughout the whole town, it smelled of fresh bread and the old wood gave it a very comforting feel. The kind red-haired woman who ran it always had a very warm smile on her face and he enjoyed talking to her.

As the two walked into the bakery, a small copper bell jingled above the doorway, signaling to the woman near the back of the shop that she had customers. When she turned around, her face brightened and Aziraphale could feel some of the tension in his chest loosening.

“Aziraphale!” She called, running up to the young man and enveloping him in a warm embrace. “What can I do you for, luv?”

“Hello, Tracy.” He said. “A loaf of bread, if you please.”

Tracy stepped back, glancing at Crowley.

“Who’s your friend here?” She asked, giving Aziraphale a smirk that one would almost call wicked.

Aziraphale’s entire face went red. “This is Crowley, I ran into him earlier, quite literally actually, it was all rather embarrassing but he’s being quite understanding about it, oh goodness am I rambling? I’m terribly sorry.” He prattled it off a little too quickly that would have earned him a good slap if he had done something so foolish at home. Though he wouldn’t have had the nerve to say anything at home. Why was he suddenly so talkative?

He glanced at Crowley, expecting to see a look of annoyance on his face, but he was smiling, looking at Aziraphale as one would look at a small dog. He couldn’t help but feel a bit perturbed and slightly doubtful. He may be charmed now, but eventually he’d see just how boring and incompetent he was. That wouldn’t stop him from enjoying their acquaintance, however short it may be. 

While Tracy was looking over her stock, Aziraphale wandered around the shop, looking over all the delicious pastries. Tracy was quite the baker and all the lovely little cakes were made with the utmost care and skill. Aziraphale had quite the sweet tooth, though Gabriel would often scold him if he ever ate more than he was supposed to. 

He did his best to shake those thoughts from his mind, trying to occupy himself with the beautiful little cakes set out on the different tables.

Tracy emerged from the back with a loaf wrapped in brown paper and Aziraphale paid her the three silver pieces he owed and turned back towards Crowley.

“Shall we?” He asked. Crowley looked lost in thought before addressing him.

“D’you mind waiting for me outside? I won’t be long.” He said. Aziraphale nodded nervously, walking out the door with his legs shaking the entire way.

He had pushed his luck. Crowley could see what a disappointment he was and he was just too polite to say it. He was probably sneaking out the window trying to avoid Aziraphale. The young man sighed. He would be as understanding as he could be but he still couldn’t deny the ache in his chest. He had tried to not be so rude or irritating but he must have still done something to annoy Crowley. Perhaps he had grown tired of his pestering questions or his meager, timid voice, or-

“Thank you for waiting for me.” A voice sounded behind him. 

When Aziraphale turned around, he saw Crowley walking from the bakery. He was quite surprised to see that he hadn’t left him after all, but there was also another feeling underneath the surprise. A peculiar flutter just beneath his chest. But he didn’t have the chance to dwell on the feeling because he was far too distracted by what Crowley was carrying.

In his hands were two small pastries that looked like small bowls filled with thick sweet cream and topped with a raspberry. One of Tracy’s specialties, she called them “Madame’s Tarts”. Aziraphale’s mouth watered as soon as he saw the pastries, but restrained himself. Crowley had most likely gotten them for himself and whoever that special lady or gentleman he had at home. But again, much to his surprise, Crowley handed one of the tarts to him. 

“I saw how you were looking at these and figured they’d be worth a try.” He said nonchalantly.

Aziraphale flushed. “You shouldn’t have wasted your money on me.” He murmured. “N-not that I’m ungrateful, it was really very kind of you, but I…I was just wondering…”

“Hey I was happy to.” Crowley said casually, taking a bite of his own tart. “C’mon, let’s go sit down.” 

The two walked to the fountain in the center of the town and sat down on the stone rim. Aziraphale’s hands trembled slightly as he looked between the pastry and his companion, who had just taken a bite of his. “Not bad. That Tracy is a good baker.”

“Indeed.” Aziraphale agreed, the quiver still in his voice. Crowley noticed how stiffly he was sitting and how he was just staring at his pastry without eating it. He shifted, swinging his leg over the rim, like he was riding side saddle, so he could look at Aziraphale.

“Something the matter? Not hungry?”

“What? No, no nothing is the matter. I’m just, well, I know you said you were happy to, but you really should not have wasted your money on me, and you really don’t have to keep me company I know I must be dreadfully annoying and oh my goodness, I’m talking too loud I’m so terribly sorry-“

“Whoa whoa, take it easy!” Crowley said. Aziraphale flinched again. He hated how he tended to ramble, once he got going he just couldn’t stop himself. “You don’t have to be sorry. It wasn’t a waste of money. And I genuinely want to keep you company.” He shrugged “The people I usually hang around with aren’t too interesting.”

“Oh…what sorts of people do you hang around?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley bit his lip, obviously uncomfortable with the question. The color drained from Aziraphale’s face. “I’m sorry if that question was too personal, you don’t have to answer it.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Crowley insisted, looking Aziraphale over. The blonde had his hands folded around the pastry, twiddling his thumbs nervously. “You know, you don’t have to keep apologizing.” Crowley said.

“Oh…well I’m sor...I-I mean…” the trembling in his hands worsened, causing him to almost drop the pastry. Large, gentle hands wrapped around his fingers, steadying the quiver. They were warm and soft, nothing like the harsh, cold hands of his family. Aziraphale looked from their intertwined hands to Crowley’s face, a little squeeze coming to his heart. There was a sad smile over the young man’s lips and a look of pain in his eyes. Oh goodness, he _had_ hurt him. 

“Why do you feel like you’ve done something wrong?” Crowley asked gently.

“W-well, I have, haven’t I?” Aziraphale stammered.

“All you’ve done is laugh at something funny, ask a few innocent questions, and apologize profusely. You haven’t said or done anything insulting, not on purpose at least.” He could tell it was meant to be a joke but that still didn’t stop the nervous twinge in Aziraphale’s chest as he lowered his eyes back to the hands wrapped around his. “Aziraphale? Is everything alright?” Aziraphale tensed at the sound of his name. At home, nobody ever even acknowledged him unless he’d done something wrong. He waited for the strike to come. For the feeling of a harsh hand against his face. The hand _did_ come, but not the strike. The touch was gentle, kind, almost loving. The fingers gently rested on his cheek with a soft slow quivering. Aziraphale looked up towards Crowley, the sadness was still in his eyes but there was also a different, strange look in his eyes. A look of protection and a want to comfort. “Aziraphale, you’ve done nothing wrong. I’ve actually really enjoyed spending time with you.”

“We…we’ve only been acquainted for three quarters of an hour.” He protested weakly. “You…you can’t possibly say that you enjoy my company when we’ve only been acquainted for such a short time…y-you hardly know me...” Despite the warmth of the afternoon, he began to break out in shivers.

“Hey, hey. ’S alright.” A few shaky breaths came from Aziraphale as Crowley’s thumb rubbed gentle circles along his skin. Despite their short acquaintance, Aziraphale didn’t protest to the closeness. He actually felt himself leaning into the touch, enjoying the warmth and softness of his skin. What surprised him was why Crowley was caressing him so sweetly. Even if Aziraphale didn’t mind, he was surprised that someone of Crowley’s status would want to be seen with him in public, let alone be seen touching him. Well, even if it had only been less than an hour, Crowley had shown him more kindness than anyone at home had ever shown him, and he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Crowley offered him a gentle smile. "I'm a pretty good judge of character."

Aziraphale raised his eyes to look up at Crowley, a shy smile coming over his lips. “Thank you.” He whispered.

The lopsided smirk came back across Crowley’s face, his thumb tracing a gentle line along Aziraphale’s cheekbone. The corners of his eyes crinkled and it made the smile on Aziraphale’s face grow just a tiny bit wider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow! Over a hundred hits already?! You guys make me so happy. Thank you so much for reading and for the outpouring of positivity that you gave from the first chapter. Aziraphale is such a soft bean and I love writing him. And it appears that Crowley is already quite smitten.  
> If you liked it, kudos and comments are so very much appreciated. Thank you for reading and have a lovely day.


	3. Chapter 3

Three sharp clangs sounded in the distance, the large bell in the castle tower signaling that it was three o’clock. He needed to be home before half past. If he didn’t leave now, he would get such a beating when he got home.

Crowley settled on the fountain rim, crossing his ankles. “Three o’clock already?”

“I should be going.” Aziraphale said frantically as he got to his feet frantically wrapping the tart in his handkerchief and setting it in his basket. “They’ll be expecting me at home.” 

Crowley stood up as well. “I can accompany you if you like.”

“That’s very kind but I can’t be distracted. If I don’t get home in a half hour, Gabriel will-“ he cut himself off before he could say something he’d regret. A concerned look came over Crowley’s face, but he said nothing. 

“I have my horse nearby. I can have you home in ten minutes.” Aziraphale bit his lip. “Only if you want to. Don’t feel pressured.”

“No, no. I’d be delighted.” He said. “But, don’t feel like you have to inconvenience yourself for my sake.” He bashfully scratched at his neck, his eyes staring at the ground. Crowley would undoubtedly be tired of Aziraphale’s antics and was just too much of a gentleman to say so. He just wanted this kind young man to know that he didn’t have to feel obliged to cater to him. But that still didn’t stop the ache in his chest that would come when he inevitably told him that he wanted him out of his sight. But, to his surprise a gentle hand clasped his.

“I’d be happy to. It’s no inconvenience.” 

Aziraphale’s cheeks went red again at the sight of the lopsided smile on Crowley’s face. Something in his chest tightened, but not in the usual anxious way. Not a horrible, suffocating tightness, but just a light squeeze that was almost pleasant. He was incredibly forward, but there was also a warm charm and enthusiasm to his disposition. And there was something very tempting about his offer.

“A-alright.” He stammered.

“Fantastic.” Crowley said. “The stables are just over this way.” He began walking off towards the entrance to the marketplace, his shoes clacking against the worn cobblestones. Aziraphale had expected Crowley to let go of his hand but as he led the way, their hands stayed clasped. Much to Aziraphale’s own surprise, he enjoyed the feeling. Crowley’s hand was large and warm, slightly calloused but sleek and elegant. He didn’t want to let go. The feel of Crowley’s hand against his made him feel safe, even if it was just his mind playing tricks on him, he enjoyed the feeling. Their hands seemed to almost fit together, his thumb rested gently against the crook of Crowley’s palm and his knuckles were soft against the tips of his fingers. He’d hadn’t touched a hand so gentle since…since his mother died.

“This one is mine,” Crowley said, breaking him out of his thoughts. Before them was a beautiful black horse with a splash of white spots across its muzzle and back that almost looked like tiny stars. “His name is Mercury.”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley, an excited little grin on his face. “Roman messenger to the gods?”

Crowley rewarded him with the lopsided grin again. “One and the same. Didn’t know you read myths too.”

“Oh I read whatever I can get my hands on.” Aziraphale bubbled. “I adore books and if I didn’t have anything else to worry about, I would spend all day in my mother’s library.” He realized he begun rambling again and turned red.

Crowley was looking at him again, there was a peculiar expression on his face, almost a fascination. There was silence between them, but Aziraphale could hear his pulse thumping in his ears as his heart hammered against his chest, which had become strangely light.

Crowley cleared his throat. “We should get a move on, gotta get you home.”

Aziraphale turned his attention back to the horse, in hopes to distract himself from the strange new feeling slowly rising in him. “He’s lovely.” Aziraphale beamed as the animal gently nudged him with its nose. He let out a chuckle as he pet its soft muzzle. “Aren’t you a handsome creature?” Mercury whinnied in response. “And such a lovely voice too.” 

“C’mon.” Crowley said, climbing into the saddle. Aziraphale’s face went red again as he gently climbed onto the horse’s back as well.

“A-are you sure he’ll be okay carrying both of us?”

Crowley waved his hand dismissively. “Mercury is the strongest horse in our…I mean the strongest horse I’ve seen. He’s carried me and my sibling easily plenty of times.” He flicked the reins and the horse began trotting towards the entrance to the town. “Which direction?” Crowley asked. 

“Oh, erm West. And take a right at the fork, then go straight.” 

Crowley gripped the reins. “Hold on, he goes pretty fast.”

Aziraphale glanced at Crowley, both to left and the right of him. “H-hold on to what?” He asked nervously.

Crowley reached back. “Give me your hand.” Aziraphale was nervous and trembling, but he still obliged, setting his hand into the young man’s waiting palm. Wordlessly, Crowley guided Aziraphale’s hand forward, around his stomach before gently setting it on his waist. He reached his other hand back and repeated the process again so Aziraphale was clinging to Crowley. “Hold on.” He gave the reins a flick and Mercury took off in a fierce gallop, the rest of the world blurring around them as they sped by.

Aziraphale held tight, doing his best not to tremble at the rush of adrenaline from the speed. But, more than that, he was also trying to take in the lovely feeling of Crowley’s soft cloak against his face and the feeling of his strong arms hovering just so above his. Every so often, his elbow would brush against Aziraphale’s forearm, sending a jitter as the soft fabric of his sleeves touched his skin. Though the cloak was thick and wooly, Aziraphale could still hear a soft thump as he pressed the side of his face against Crowley’s back.

Mercury began galloping faster. In truth, Aziraphale was curious and fairly confused how a horse was able to run so fast, it shouldn’t have been possible. But the fear far outweighed the confusion and awe. He had only ridden the family horse, a sweet old thing who never went faster than a casual gallop, so he wasn’t used to riding so fast and despite himself, he began to tremble. Long, elegant fingers gently traced along his hands. Though Crowley wasn’t taking his eyes off the path in front of them, he still offered Aziraphale some reassurance and comfort through his soft touch. It wasn’t much, but it still spoke volumes.

In almost no time, they had reached the path leading up to the family manor and Mercury slowed to a trot.

“This one is yours, right?” Crowley asked.

“Mmhm.” Aziraphale said quickly, still a little dazed from the trip. Crowley hopped down from the steed and held his hand out to Aziraphale. The blush returned to the blond’s face as he took it, letting the redhead gently pull him from the saddle. The heel of his boot caught on the stirrup and he tumbled forward. Strong arms encircled his waist, keeping him from hitting the ground and his face rubbed against the warm silk of Crowley’s shirt. He glanced up, meeting those golden brown eyes. Crowley met his gaze for a few moments before looking away, blushing slightly as well as he helped Aziraphale to his feet.

“Th-thank you.” Aziraphale stammered. “Both for…f-for that just now, and the ride. A-and the pastry, that was much appreciated.”

Crowley smirked again. “’S nothing. I was glad to do it. Erm, thanks for the company this afternoon.” He scratched the back of his head, suddenly awkward, a far cry from the smooth talking gentleman he was earlier. “Will you…will you be seeing me? Erm! Will I be seeing you? Again?” He asked.

Oh, he wanted to see him? On purpose? He wasn’t annoyed with him? No, no there had to a catch, this must be some kind of trick. Why on earth would he _want_ to see _him_?

Aziraphale raised his eyes to meet Crowley’s and noticed that there was a trace amount of anxiety and nerves and an apprehension. He was waiting for an answer from him. There was something sly but also sincere about his eyes. Something mischievous, a lust for adventure and fun. But he was also kind. He could see that clear as day. And, despite himself, Aziraphale felt the flutter raising in his chest again.

“I usually buy food every Sunday, unless we need something before then, if you would care to join me. You don’t have to if you don’t wish to…you probably have better things to-”

“Excellent!” Crowley said excitedly. “I’ll erm, I’ll see you on Sunday then. M-meet at the fountain?”

“Yes. That sounds fine.”

“Okay. See you then.” He casually climbed back into the saddle and gave Aziraphale a cursory glance before flicking he reins and Mercury took off galloping off, a cloud of dust in his wake.

Aziraphale took a few breaths, steading his heartbeat and hoping to calm the flutter in his chest. That was…unexpected. He was shy by nature, so he was not very good at making friends, with the exception of the children in town and Tracy and he’d only gotten to know Tracy because he went to the bakery almost every week and she was very open and very chatty. The children on the other hand were only acquainted with them because Adam’s mother and his mother had been friends. They had met for tea several times before his mother died. He was about eleven when Adam had been born and when he was twelve…well he only really saw the lad and his friends whenever he was in town. But that friendship hadn’t really needed any help. Adam’s mother knew Aziraphale, and Aziraphale knew Adam. Adam made friends easily and introduced Aziraphale. The children enjoyed his stories so he didn’t need to rely on social skills when around them. But, with Crowley…how had that even happened? It was all a bit of a blur, but it also seemed so, well so exciting. He’d never made a friend on his own before, but Crowley had made it seem so natural and so easy. 

A small grin worked its way across his lips as he walked back inside, though it faded as soon as he stepped in the door.

“Where have you been?” Gabriel said sharply.

Aziraphale froze. Was he late? Had he dawdled in the garden too long? No, he glanced at the clock on the wall. It was only quarter after. “I…I thought…”

“I told you to be back by three.” 

“I thought it was half past…” Aziraphale squeaked.

“Don’t talk back to me, boy.” Gabriel barked. “If I say you were supposed to be back by three, then you were supposed to be back by three.” A stinging smack came across the young man’s cheek. “There will be no supper for you tonight. Now put the bread away and get back to your chores.”

“Y-yessir.” He stammered, grabbing the bread and putting it in the breadbox before picking up the bucket and walking on trembling legs out to the well.

He spent all afternoon on his hands and knees scrubbing the foyer floor and as soon as he was done with that, he began on dinner, hoping to whoever was listening that what he made would be satisfying enough that Gabriel’s temper would cool. Gabriel was tensely silent as Aziraphale set the plate down in front of him. Michelle and Uriel were chittering to each other, not even noticing Aziraphale. He stayed off in the corner, posture straight as a rail in case any of them needed to call on him, but the rest of dinner went on without event. As Aziraphale cleared the dishes, a loud growl emerged from his stomach. Gabriel smirked, satisfied with his punishment. 

“That will be all for this evening, Aziraphale. Wash the dishes and then you’re dismissed.” 

Aziraphale gave him a curt nod before he took the dishes into the kitchen, a little defeated sigh emerging from him as he set the dishes in the washtub. That could have gone better, but it certainly could have gone worse. He’d had far worse punishments than that, but the stress and new experiences of the day still had him utterly worn out. When he finished putting the dishes away, he was about ready to collapse. He picked up his basket to put it back in its place by the cupboard when his eyes fell on the little bundle wrapped in a handkerchief. He scooped out the bundle as he set the basket down, walking into his tiny bedroom off from the side of the kitchen. 

It wasn’t much of a bedroom, more like a large closet. No matter how often he swept it, it always managed to get dirty, with soot trailing all over the gray stones. He sat down on his bed, if it could even be called that, more like a very large sack stuffed with straw, and unwrapped the bundle. The little pastry from before greeted him. It was a little stale, the bowl crackling a little and spreading crumbs onto his hand and lap, but it looked just as delicious as it had in the bakery.

Aziraphale smiled as he took a bite of the pastry, the taste of the sweet cream floating gently over his tongue. The pastry bowl, though stale, was still rich, tasting of vanilla and warm sugar. A little sigh emerged from him as he plucked up the raspberry and popped it into his mouth. He did his best to savor it, but it was gone in less than twenty seconds, nothing but crumbs left on his hands. 

He hadn’t tasted anything so delightful in months. Another happy sigh escaped him as he settled onto his bed, letting the events of that afternoon process. He’d made a friend. Somebody actually wanted to see him. Another blush came across his cheeks. And, as he felt the flutter in his chest spread to his stomach and head, he found that he wanted to see him as well. For the first time in a long time as he drifted off to sleep, he was feeling downright giddy. Now more than ever, he found himself looking forward to Sunday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I hope everyone is enjoying reading this story as much as I love writing it. The soft is strong with this one. And of course we had to have a stand in for the Bentley so that's where Mercury comes in. Also I only put in that cliche, person A stumbles and person B catches them thing because I'm trash. And damn proud of it. I will have my soft!  
> If you liked it, kudos and comments are much appreciated.  
> Thank you so much for reading and have a lovely day.


	4. Chapter 4

The week couldn’t go by fast enough. Aziraphale usually looked forward to his weekly trip to the town market, but this time, he was more than just simply anticipating Sunday, he was downright impatient.

Part of him suspected that his chance encounter with Crowley had simply been a dream and that he’d approach the fountain on Sunday and find nobody there. He tried not let his hopes get too high, but he enjoyed the feeling of excitement blossoming in his stomach.

On Saturday, he was practically dancing through his chores, though his giddiness didn’t go unnoticed.

While he was sweeping the ashes from the fireplace, Michelle noticed him and the slight bounce in his movements as well as the quiet tune he was humming. 

“What’s gotten _you_ so excited?” She sneered.

Aziraphale gulped, all the glee in his body quickly seeping away and being replaced with absolute panic. “N…nothing, Miss Michelle.” He stammered.

“ _N…nothing, Miss Michelle_.” His stepsister mocked. “Good Lord, speak up when someone addresses you.” Now _that_ was a trick. If he ever _did_ raise his voice to a proper speaking level, or even look any of them in the eyes without warrant, he’d be scolded at best, punished at worst. But Michelle knew this and she just loved mocking him and trying to confuse him. Aziraphale was too smart to fall for it most of the time, but early on he had made the mistake of actually taking Michelle’s “advice”. She had said he should try dressing a little better so he wouldn’t look so plain. When he came down to dinner wearing one of his old suits, one of the ones his mother had made him, Gabriel became absolutely enraged, calling him a narcissistic brat and slapping him so hard that his nose started bleeding. From then on, Aziraphale figured that listening to Michelle was a bad idea.

“Apologies, Miss. I’ll get back to work. Nothing you need to worry about.”

His stepsister noticed his change in demeanor and a little smirk came over her face. “Alright then, _brother dearest_.” She mocked. “I’ll let you get back to your chores.” She walked away from him, snickering to herself.

Aziraphale let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding as he continued to clean the fireplace, trying not to cough as the ashes began to drift and cause thick black clouds to rise up towards his face. Michelle had that kind of look in her eye that usually meant trouble for him. Something was most likely going to go wrong before the end of the day and if he wanted to survive it, he would need to keep his head down.

“Aziraphale, I need a word with you.”

Damn. Too late.

Aziraphale stood from the fireplace, soot on his shirt and hands, and was faced with Gabriel, who was standing several feet away with his hands behind his back.

“Y-yes sir? What did you need?”

“Come here please.” Gabriel was never one to approach someone. It was beneath him. Everyone always had to approach him. Aziraphale’s legs shook as he walked to the center of the room. “Michelle just told me something quite interesting.” Gabriel said as he began pacing. “Do you know what she said?”

Aziraphale gulped. “N-no sir. I don’t.”

Gabriel’s pacing took a turn and he was behind Aziraphale. “She told me that you’ve been acting strange. Humming while you’ve been doing your chores, smiling excessively.” His footsteps tapped against the tiled floor and he was once again in front of Aziraphale before disappearing behind him again, circling him like a vulture. “She then told me when she asked you what caused this behavior, you wouldn’t tell her.” He stopped in front of him. “It’s not like you to keep secrets.” He said, a slight pout on his lips. “So tell me, what’s been the cause of this sudden lift of your spirits? You’re usually so morose, so quiet.”

Aziraphale gulped, keeping his eyes set on the ground. “It’s…It’s nothing sir.” Aziraphale had wanted to keep his encounter with Crowley a secret. For one thing, if Gabriel knew he’d encountered and befriended a nobleman, he’d begin to wonder if he’d done or said anything to embarrass himself or the family. Or worse, told him anything. For another thing, there was something exciting about keeping the secret. It was something beautiful and sweet, just for him. Crowley wanted to see him, hand been friendly to him. And he was worried his stepfather might try and take that away from him. Whenever Gabriel wanted to cause Aziraphale misery, he was very often quick and skilled about it and he could do it without anyone asking any questions. Once, the young man who would deliver the mail had flirted with him a few times. It had been a surprise to Aziraphale, but he had been smitten. Gabriel had caught the mail boy flirting with him. Aziraphale had never seen him again. Crowley may have been a noble, but that didn’t stop Aziraphale from fearing what Gabriel could possibly do to him. “Just…just been feeling in a good mood lately.”

“Oh is that it?” Gabriel chirped. Aziraphale gulped and nodded timidly. “Aziraphale, my dear boy, you know how much I hate being lied to.” He set a hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder, though it was hardly a comfort or a reassurance. His grip was tight. It hurt. His fingers dug into the skin on his shoulder. It was a dare. A silent message telling Aziraphale to just try and lie to him again, just try it. Aziraphale swallowed, looking Gabriel in the eye. “Tell me the truth, boy. Now.”

Aziraphale was not a good liar. He was as transparent as glass. He knew this, which kept him from lying at any opportunity. He had once tried to lie to his mother when he gave away a toy sword she had given him. He told her he had simply lost it, she saw through him as soon as the lie had left his lips. Since then he had refrained from lying. But this time, the stake were much higher than simply having his mother angry with him. If he told Gabriel about his meeting with Crowley and his plans to meet with him again, at best he’d be punished, at worst Crowley would be hurt. Aziraphale swallowed again and took a breath, hoping his stepfather would believe his nerves were due to the man’s power over him, not due to his lying. The only other thing he could do was pray that his stepfather believed him, or at the very least not take action.

“It’s almost springtime.” Aziraphale said. “I’ve always preferred the spring. And the garden is looking quite lovely. I’m…I’m just trying to be optimistic…sir.” 

There was a look in his eyes that Aziraphale didn’t like. It could be the usual shrewd, condescending look that he usually wore, but there was something else. Something a little more sinister underneath all that. But his stepfather remained quiet, giving him a smile in return, though there was no affection in it.

“Well if that’s what you say, I’ll believe you.”

Once again, Aziraphale found himself unable to trust his stepfather, but considered it a blessing, or anything short of a miracle, that he was dropping the subject and letting him get back to his chores. 

As Gabriel walked away, Aziraphale couldn’t help but feel that the lie he’d told would come back to bite him.

* * * * *

At first he was worried Crowley wasn’t going come. He’d raced to the fountain as soon as he arrived at the market and had been waiting for nearly fifteen minutes. He had to be back before three o’clock this time, and heaven knew that even if he got back on time, he would still be punished. Gabriel wasn’t in a particularly bad mood that morning, but that could change very quickly.

Perhaps Aziraphale was just fooling himself. Crowley didn’t actually want to see him. Why would he-

“Sorry I’m late.” A voice sounded from behind him. When he turned around, he found Crowley walking up to him, no longer wearing his dark gray cloak, the weather was far too mild for it, instead wearing a loose silk shirt and black waistcoat. Instead of his hair being pulled into a tail, it was hanging loose in fire-red curls around his shoulders. The tightness returned to Aziraphale’s chest and his face went as red as Crowley’s hair. He tried to tell himself that the squeeze in his heart was simply because he hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep the previous night and he was merely tired, but the frantic pounding in his chest only grew as he came closer. “Took me a while to get away this morning.”

“It’s quite alright.” Aziraphale assured, his cheeks still flushed. “I only just arrived myself.” That was blatant lie. Of course, Crowley didn’t buy it, but he still simply nodded.

“Okay, where do you need to go to first?”

“The…the fruit stand.” Aziraphale said, his mind not entirely focussed on what he needed to get for Gabriel.

“Alright then, lead the way.” 

Aziraphale gave a shy nod as he began to lead his friend to the other end of the market. This time, in stark contrast to their previous encounter, Crowley began to fill the silence, going on about his week and what he’d done and such. Unlike Aziraphale, Crowley was able to say what he needed to without feeling the need to speak with his hands. Aziraphale, on the occasion he didn’t have to worry about being scolded for talking too much, would tend to get rather animated when he spoke, however Crowley’s hands merely hung at his sides, swaying with little effort as he walked.

Aziraphale flushed as he recalled the softness and warmth of those hands as they caressed his cheek and folded over his knuckles. And he had so effortlessly reached to take his hand, without even a single thought. What was more…it had felt right. It was foolish to think of it, but it had felt so right to have Crowley’s hand clasped around his. He was being ridiculous, they’d known each other for a week. He shouldn’t be getting excited over someone holding his hand. But as they walked and Aziraphale listened to Crowley tell him about his week, the flutter in his chest had graduated to a full on patter, his heart hammering against his ribs. He looked up at Crowley, who had stopped talking and was watching his expression. He looked at Aziraphale and then to his hand before reaching out to gently reaching out to grasp the blonde’s hand again. The tender warmth spread all up Aziraphale’s arm again and what he could only assume was a dopey smile appeared over his face. The warmth and the smile didn’t go away even as they continued through the town and Aziraphale purchased the food for the week, even as Crowley escorted him home again. When his hand slipped out of Crowley’s, it left him feeling slightly empty and alone, but as Crowley got back onto his horse, he gave Aziraphale a hearty, “I’ll see you next week,” before riding off. The warmth returned to Aziraphale as the realization hit him. He wasn’t just pretending. It wasn’t just a dream.

He had a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello loves! I hope you all have been doing well. And I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The soft is strong with this one. If you liked it, kudos and comments are so very much appreciated. Thank you for reading, and have a lovely day.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW depressive episode and dissociating

“The knight traversed on through the dark wood, his path just barely visible in front of him with the mist swirling all around, blocking the rest of the world from view.” The children sat around Aziraphale’s feet, rapt with attention as he continued his story. The six of them were all sitting under the shade of the old oak tree that grew near the fountain. Five weeks had passed since Aziraphale had met Crowley, now it was early May and the weather was beginning to grow warmer. There were several times when Aziraphale would be working in the garden and would nearly faint from too much time in the sun. 

The children began squirming with impatience, listening intently as Aziraphale continued. “He was only able to tell he was going in the right direction because the trees began to grow thicker around him, blocking the sun from view and leaving him in complete darkness. He was getting closer to the lair of the beast. He heard a noise.” Aziraphale picked up a twig and broke it in half, the audible snap causing little Wensleydale to flinch. “A stranger loomed in front of him, a long silvery beard cascading down his front, tangled with leaves and twigs. His gray hood covered his head so the knight couldn’t see his face. But he could see two green glowing eyes piercing the darkness.” Aziraphale straightened his posture, setting his hands on his hips and lowering his voice. “‘ _State thy business, man of the wood._ ’ The knight said boldly.” Aziraphale then hunched over, tensing his hands to look like wrinkled claw-like fingers. “‘ _To pass, ye must answer my riddles three, my friend._ ’ The wild man said. ‘ _Guess them wrong and ye shall meet a horrid end._ ’ The knight thought for a moment. If he answered the questions incorrectly, it would mean the end of his quest and the end of his life. But if he turned back now, then the beast would continue to ravage his kingdom.” The little black and white dog sitting in Adam’s lap lifted his head, cocking it to the side in confusion. Aziraphale straightened his posture again, puffing out his chest and raising his head. “The knight held his head high, jutting his chin out, showing the wild man he was not afeared. ‘ _Ask me your riddles._ ’” Aziraphale leaned in, giving the children a sly conspiratorial look. “The wild man smiled a dastardly grin. He knew something the knight did not.”

The children were leaning forward in anticipation but were agitated when Aziraphale didn’t continue. 

“What?” Warlock gasped. “What did the wild man know? What’s he planning?”

“What were the questions?” Wensleydale asked, practically bouncing with anticipation.

“Does the knight find the beast? C’mon you’ve gotta tell us!” Pepper pleaded.

“Those are answers that will have to be saved until next time, children.”

“Wot?!” Brian groaned. “Why d’you keep doing this to us? Will we ever hear the end?”

“You will, you will. Don’t worry. But you’ll have to be patient for it.” He stood up, gathering his basket. “Now I’ve got to get back to buying food. You all should best run along. I’m sure Adam’s father needs help in his shop.”

The children sighed but reluctantly agreed.

“Bye, Aziraphale!” Adam called.

“You better have more of the story to tell us next time we see you!” Pepper said sternly.

Aziraphale chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.” He said with a little salute. The children ran off in the direction of the tailor shop run by Adam’s father, Aziraphale smiling as he watched them scamper off.

“Aw, c’mon, it was just getting good.” A familiar voice sounded behind him.

Aziraphale blushed. “Crowley.” He chirped, turning around to face his friend, who was leaning against a nearby tree. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long, or that my story bored you. I didn’t know you were listening.”

“On the contrary, I enjoyed it. I’m intrigued to see where it goes next.” He gestured to the ground in front of Aziraphale where his little audience had been sitting not even five minutes prior. “And it looked like I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed it.”

A little grin came over Aziraphale’s face. “I’m glad they like it. Gives me a reason to keep thinking up new stories.” The smile faltered. “It’s something my mum and I used to do with each other.” A sadness came through Aziraphale and he looked at the ground, reminiscing of joyful times he’d shared with his mother. Those memories were the only things he had left of his mother, but sometimes thinking about her hurt. Just a reminder of the wonderful person and good times he’d lost.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley asked. “Are you alright?”

Aziraphale snapped from his memories and looked back up at Crowley. “Yes. I’m fine. Just ticket-y boo.” Crowley raised an eyebrow, whether it was at the obvious lie or the frankly odd saying that had just escaped Aziraphale’s mouth. Aziraphale didn't notice. His mind was beginning to wander to a place he didn't like.

He hated when this happened. It always started with a tiny spark, a little seed, usually coming on when he thought about something he and his mother used to do together. Then it would always start to grow and become greater until it was almost suffocating. He began to feel like he was drowning, his thoughts were pounding in his mind and a numb feeling wormed its way through his bones. He wanted to cry but he couldn't let anyone see. He didn't want anyone to be bothered by what a pathetic weakling he was. 

So his body went through the motions, picking up the basket, placing what he needed into it, handing the money to the vendor, and repeating . 

Just smile and wish them a good day, don't let them see. 

Don't let them see! 

Those weren't his fingers wrapped around the handle of the basket, it wasn't his hands searching for the ripest berries or apples or the freshest loaf of bread, it wasn't his lips smiling. He was just a puppet. The only thing going on inside his head were reminders of the happy life he'd lost. 

Crowley wouldn't stop looking at him while they continued through the town. There was a questioning look in his eyes, but he didn't say anything until after Aziraphale had purchased everything he needed. Crowley didn’t start leading him to the stables like he usually did when they were finished shopping. He simply took Aziraphale by the arm and sat him down on the rim of the fountain. Aziraphale’s melancholic state hadn’t improved throughout their entire trip and only let up slightly to be replaced with a mild bit of panic. Crowley had noticed how he was moping and was about to tell him off. That was the only reasonable explanation. Oh goodness, what if he was so annoyed with him that he asked to never see him again? No, he simply needed to pull himself together and buck up. 

He bit his lip, doing his best to push his less than desirable feelings into the back corner of his mind and ignore the tight squeezing feeling in his chest as he and Crowley sat down on the rim of the fountain.

“Now you’re gonna tell me what’s wrong.”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong? Why would anything be wrong?”

Crowley gave Aziraphale a look, one eyebrow raised and his lips slightly puckered. He wasn’t buying it in the slightest. “Aziraphale, please. I’ve only known you for a little over a month but I still know you well enough to know something is wrong.”

“I’m just…just thinking about my mother is all.” He admitted. “But it’s alright, I’ll be fine.” He needed to get this over with before he went home and Gabriel saw him.

“Don’t do that.” Crowley said, his tone flat and serious, his eyes cast to the ground. “Don’t pretend that everything is okay when it’s not. I can tell it’s really bothering you.”

“Well so what if it is?” Aziraphale said, surprised to find himself snapping. “I can’t very well change it, so the best thing to do is to move on from it.”

Crowley looked back up at him, something passionate was hiding just behind a layer of laidback indifference in his beautiful golden brown eyes. “Moving on and pushing it down are two very different things.” He said, his voice low but intense as he took Aziraphale’s hand. “Please. Talk to me.”

Aziraphale swallowed hard, trying his best to keep the tears from coming. No no! He couldn’t cry! Not out in the open like this. Not in front of his friend. 

If he were being honest, he knew full well that he hadn’t properly mourned and moved on from his mother’s death. Well, he’d never truly move on, but he’d never gotten a chance to mourn her. Life had moved so quickly after her death and soon he had to worry about surviving Gabriel’s rage and well surviving in general. But he couldn’t break down now. If he did, all his hard work would be for nothing. 

Crowley looked at him with a softness in his eyes. It almost tempted him to talk, but before he could open his mouth, his stepfather’s words echoed in his ears. 

“ _I don’t want to hear any more of your blubbering. You need to learn to keep all that to yourself. Nobody else will want to deal with your problems so you’d best learn to control yourself. You're too emotional._ ”

He didn’t want to drive Crowley away with his silly problems.

"Really, Crowley, I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me." He was silently begging that Crowley would drop it. He wouldn't be able to hold himself back before he exploded and if Crowley kept pressing him about it, he'd break.

"No, you're not Aziraphale. Please talk to me."

"I said I'm fine." Aziraphale was beginning to get annoyed. Why couldn't Crowley just let it be?

"Aziraphale, I understand how you're feeling. And pushing it all down isn't the right way to deal with this. You can't continue like this." 

Something snapped inside Aziraphale. Who was did Crowley think he was? Did he really have the gall to say he understood Aziraphale? He knew nothing about him. Why was Crowley even bothering with him anyway if he thought so little about him?

Aziraphale dropped Crowley’s hand and gripped his basket in his fist as he stood up from the fountain.

“Well perhaps my methods of mourning are different than yours. I’m sorry I have frustrated you with my melancholy. Good day sir.” 

Before Crowley could even get a chance to say anything more, Aziraphale began walking towards the edge of town as briskly as he could.

He didn’t mean to be so harsh to Crowley. He knew he was in the wrong. But if he talked about everything on his mind and in his heart, his friend would just run away…just like Gabriel said he would. Fat load of good keeping it to himself had done. Now Crowley likely would never want to see him again. Great job Aziraphale, you’ve ruined everything. Again.

He bit his lip as he passed the stable and heard Mercury’s familiar spirited whinny which halted when the horse noticed Aziraphale walking past him rather than towards him.

He looked over his shoulder, wondering if Crowley was following after him.

He wasn’t.

Aziraphale couldn’t tell if it was relief or disappointment settling in his chest.

He walked home that afternoon. Completely alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....I'm terrible. I'm also not sorry. Being a jerk is just part of the nature of an author...okay yes I'm very sorry for that ending. Please don't be mad at me.  
> Anyway, I hope you all are enjoying this story. The comments you folks all leave are so wonderful and supportive and always make me feel so happy. Thank you so much for reading and have a lovely day


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Sexual Assault and Non-consensual touching

Aziraphale regretted everything he said to Crowley the second he stepped out of town and he wanted to turn back and apologize to him. But there was no way Crowley would want to see him, not after how frightfully rude he was. Not just rude, but downright mean. Crowley was his friend and he was only trying to help him and he had gotten defensive. That wasn’t fair to him.

But perhaps that’s just how suppressing his grief had left him. A snippy irritable buffoon. 

He missed his mother. He missed her more than anything. He missed his father too. He had been lost on a sea voyage when Aziraphale was three. He didn’t remember much about him but he remembered his mother saying that he had his father’s eyes and his round cheeks. Once his father died, his mother had been his rock, his closest companion, his confidant. She was the one who dried his tears, who sang him to sleep, who assured him that everything would be alright. 

He hadn’t even been at home when she’d died. 

She had been ill for weeks and Aziraphale hadn’t left her side. He’d been reading to her from a book by her favorite author, the second in the series. The third and final book had just been published that day. His mother had told him to go into town and buy it, she wanted to hear how the story ended and she said he’d been cooped up inside with her for too long. He should get outside and enjoy the sunshine. She had taken a gentle hold on his arm before he left and said, “Have courage, my darling, and greet the world with kindness.” He didn’t know why she’d said it or what it meant until he’d gotten home. He’d walked through the door, book in hand and immediately knew something wasn’t right. When he raced up the stairs and into her room, she was…she was gone. 

She’d be so disappointed in him. He was a coward and he’d just snapped at his friend. He’d gone against her last wishes for him. He was a failure of a son.

He felt the tears well up in his eyes but he would not let them fall. He refused! 

He roughly dragged his sleeve across his eyes and kept walking, his mind completely blank, numb from the pain of the newly opened wound. As he walked, his body seeming to move without the use of his mind, only one thing seemed to stand out against the haze of pain and loneliness and longing that was settling deep into his body.

He’d never felt so alone.

* * * * *

Crowley didn’t meet him the following week. Aziraphale had waited for an hour but he never saw hide nor hair of him. He felt just dreadful for offending his friend and wanted more than anything to apologize. But if Crowley didn’t want to see him, then what could he do?

His whole week had just been miserable leading up to Sunday. Michelle's tricks and Uriel’s taunts had gotten worse. Tuesday afternoon, Uriel had stuck her foot out underneath him while he was carrying a tray of dishes sending him clashing to the floor. Gabriel had _not_ been happy and Aziraphale had been given twelve strikes with a switch, six on each arm, in addition to having bits of porcelain stuck in his hands and shoulder from where he’d fallen on them. He’d been denied supper for two nights in a row because he’d missed a speck of dirt in the foyer when he’d swept, and Gabriel had given him a good smack on Friday for looking gloomy.

Sunday night, however, had been the worst. All because of a letter that had been delivered.

The courier knocked on the door and handed the letter to Aziraphale. The young man went pale as soon as he saw the familiar wax seal over the fold of the envelope. Maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe it was someone else in the family. He was just overreacting and jumping to conclusions like he always did.

Aziraphale thanked the courier and closed the door, walking back into the drawing room, stiff as a board. He said nothing as he handed the letter to Gabriel but was incredibly tense as his stepfather picked up the letter opener and slipped it under the fold, the metal flashing in the light of the fire. With a quick slice, the envelope was open and Gabriel was pulling a long folded letter from it.

“What is it, Father?” Uriel asked, setting down her needlepoint.

The parchment was a rather thin make and though Aziraphale couldn’t read the fine handwriting, he had an easy time making out the large, flowing signature at the bottom of the page. When he read the name, he went pale again, his stomach turned in knots and he felt like he was going to be sick.

“Well, this is a lovely surprise.” Gabriel mused as he looked up at his daughters. “Girls, your uncle will be in town tomorrow and he’ll be staying with us until the beginning of the summer.”

Uriel and Michelle both smiled.

“It’s been far too long since Uncle Sandalphon's visited.” Michelle said.

“I wonder where his latest voyage had taken him. And what he’s brought back.” Uriel chimed.

“Well it all says right here in the letter,” Gabriel started, but Aziraphale didn’t hear the rest, his pulse was thumping too loudly in his ears.

Not Sandalphon, anyone but Sandalphon. He could take Gabriel’s beatings, he could take Michelle trying to confuse him and trick him and question his own sanity, and he could take Uriel calling him every horrid thing in the book. But Sandalphon’s abuse was on a level all its own and just the thought of the huge brute made Aziraphale shiver.

He barely got any sleep that night, the anxiety in his mind was deafening. So when he and his stepfamily waited outside the estate the next morning, he would have been near ready to collapse from exhaustion but the fear and adrenaline were running far too high.

Soon enough, the carriage came rolling up the pathway and stopped in front of the house. The coachman hopped down from the driver’s seat and opened the door. Sandalphon stepped out, a short and stocky man but his brutish personality more than made up for his lack of height. 

“Uncle Sandalphon!” Uriel chirped as she and Michelle rushed to embrace their uncle. Sandalphon laughed as he opened his arms to his nieces. 

“My girls,” he greeted “I’ve missed you.”

Gabriel stepped forward, holding out his hand to his brother, who shook it firmly before pulling him into an embrace as well.

“Aziraphale.” Gabriel barked. “Get his bags.”

“Yessir,” Aziraphale murmured, keeping his eyes to the ground. Even if he couldn’t see him, he could feel Sandalphon’s eyes burning into him.

“How was your latest voyage?” Michelle asked.

“Boring.” Sandalphon said. “I was only lucky that the people there liked what I had to sell. And that they were willing to trade for such foolishly low prices. Come, I’ve brought gifts for you two.”

Aziraphale picked up Sandalphon’s bags, tucking one under each arm and taking the third in his hand (three bags? Who packs three bags for a trip of only a month?) and followed his stepfamily inside, where Sandalphon had begun telling his nieces about some poor fool he’d scammed.

“Show my brother where he’ll be staying.” Gabriel commanded, not even looking at Aziraphale. 

The young man gulped, not wanting to go anywhere alone with Sandalphon, but he couldn’t refuse an order from his stepfather, so he simply replied with his usual, “Yessir.” With trembling hands, he picked up the bags and looked towards Sandalphon. “T-this way, s-sir.”

Sandalphon followed him, the whole time Aziraphale could still feel those eyes burning into his back, staring intently at him. He led Sandalphon up the stairs and down the hall to the lavishly decorated guest room. Aziraphale was fairly sure Sandalphon knew where he was staying, he’d stayed with them before, but he was far too much of a coward to say anything.

“J-just in here sir.”

“Why thank you, Aziraphale.” Sandalphon said, breezing into the guest room. “You can just set the bags anywhere.” Aziraphale obliged, setting the bags down next to the bed.

“If that’ll be all, s-sir-“

“I didn’t say that was all, lad. Come here, let me get a look at you.” With quivering knees, Aziraphale took a few steps towards Sandalphon. “Oh come now, lad, I won’t bite.”

Aziraphale gulped as he took a few steps closer. Sandalphon reached out a hand to caress Aziraphale’s cheek, like Crowley had done, but this time it was different. Where Crowley’s hand had been gentle and tentative, Sandalphon’s was firm and hungry, like he wanted more from the touch.

“It’s been too long since I’ve seen you, my boy. Almost seven months.” Slowly, the hand trailed from Aziraphale’s cheek to his shoulder, down his arm to his bicep. “Entirely too long.” The hand gave his bicep a tight squeeze and Aziraphale flinched, causing Sandalphon to grin in response. “Luckily we’ll have four whole weeks to catch up, won’t we?” Aziraphale swallowed, staying silent. Sandalphon’s hand gripped his chin, the smile was still on his face but there was a hungry fire in his eyes. “Won’t we?”

“Y-yes s-sir.” Aziraphale stammered. If it were possible, the smile on Sandalphon’s face grew wider. 

“Wonderful.”

The rest of that day had been a nightmare. There had been no more touches from him, only long lustful stares. And at dinner Sandalphon had brought up the fact that it seemed rather unfair that Aziraphale worked so hard to cook dinner and he got to taste none of it. He beckoned Aziraphale to come closer, a bit of meat speared on his fork, which he held out to Aziraphale.

“Go on, lad, take a bite.”

He stuck the fork into Aziraphale’s mouth, remarking on what an excellent cook the young man was. After Aziraphale had swallowed the bite, it took every ounce of restraint he had to not let it come back up again. 

By the time the rest of the family had gone to bed, he was a complete jittering mess and was never so relieved to be in his tiny little closet of a room behind a closed door. He all but collapsed onto his little bed, not even bothering to change into his nightclothes, trying to calm his nerves. It was just four weeks. He could survive that. 

He was just beginning to drift off to sleep when the door opened behind him. He went still and silent, like a deer in the sight of a carriage, tensing as someone sat down beside him and a hand set against his shoulder. It traced all down the length of his arm and over his knuckles and fingers before dragging slowly back up his arm again.

“Such a beauty.” Sandalphon’s oily voice whispered as his hand lightly traced the lines along Aziraphale collarbone. “Such a pity you’re under my brother’s care.” His hand moved to his chest, down his stomach. “I could take much better care of you.” The hand continued to move down his stomach, over his hips and stopping to cup him just below his belt.

Aziraphale yelped, sat up and shoved him away, scrambling against the wall. 

“My apologies, I didn’t know you were still awake.” Sandalphon said, though something in his tone told him he wasn’t remotely sorry. Aziraphale met him with a terrified glance at his face and then his hands. Another yelp escaped from him as Sandalphon scooted a little closer, all but pushing Aziraphale into the corner.

“N-no.” Aziraphale whimpered. 

“Don’t even think about telling my brother.” Sandalphon said as he set his hand on Aziraphale’s chest again. “He won’t believe you.” The hand began to move down again. “Though I don’t think it would work out better for you if he did.” Just when the hand was about to trace just above the waistline of his breeches, it moved away and Sandalphon stood up. “Sleep well.” He said, mock pleasantness in his voice. He turned on his heel and left Aziraphale alone again, shivering with tears running down his cheeks. He lowered himself back onto his bed, his eyes fixed on the door and his entire body trembling.

How in the world was he going to survive four weeks? 

He wrapped his arms around himself as more tears began to trickle from his eyes.

He wished more than anything that Crowley was with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Sandalphon is a dickbag, and yes I am as well. Now that we've gotten that out of the way, thank you all for reading!  
> Classes have started up for me again and I'll be basically completely remote all semester because even though I'll be moving to campus in two weeks, most of my teachers are staying off campus. Good for them for taking care of their health. I hope you all are staying safe as well.   
> Thank you for your lovely comments and for leaving kudos. It makes me feel so appreciated, you're all so sweet.  
> Thanks for reading and have a lovely day!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Self deprecating thoughts/internalized victim blaming, descriptions of sexual assault and of a panic attack/seizure. Please take care of yourselves.

Sandalphon came into his room every night that week, caressing him and whispering about what a beauty he was. There was always the sense that he was holding himself back, but there was an unspoken promise that he could take more if he so desired. And he would always leave after uttering a warning to tell Gabriel nothing about his nightly visits. All the while Aziraphale would lay there, trembling in fear under his touch. He wished he wasn’t more of a coward, he wished he had the courage to fight back, but he would always just lay there on his bed and…he wouldn’t do anything. It disgusted him that he wouldn’t even fight back. He was always paralyzed from the fear but as soon as Sandalphon left the room, his mind would begin screaming at him that he should have fought back.

Perhaps it was a good thing that he was such a coward. If he fought back and managed to get a hit on Sandalphon, he would likely tell Gabriel. Disobeying Gabriel’s orders, being lazy and gluttonous, and being a disappointment were all one thing, but striking a family member? Unacceptable. Even _if_ Gabriel knew what Sandalphon was doing he'd still be angry with Aziraphale. Come to think of it, he would probably get angry _because_ of it. And it would be humiliating to have to confront Gabriel about his side of the story, having to tell him every detail of every filthy touch to his body.

So he did his best to keep everything hidden, even with everything else he had to worry about. Gabriel would often scold Aziraphale for yawning, due to lack of sleep, or for having a silly expression on his face (that “silly expression” was a look of abject terror mixed with a feeling of disgust), but otherwise remained ignorant of his brother’s harassment against the lad.

By the time Sunday arrived, Aziraphale was one lustful wink from Sandalphon away from fully breaking down and he was never so overjoyed to leave the house to buy food for the week. He practically ran to town so he would be able to spend as much time as possible distracting himself with the wonderful sights and sounds. And he’d have Crowley with him to…oh. He’d forgotten their argument and the same bitter regret filled Aziraphale’s chest but he was still determined to make the most out of this trip, even if his friend wasn’t with him.

As he walked through the town square making his way to the fruit cart, a flash of red hair caught his eye as he passed the fountain. He told himself not to get his hopes up. It likely wasn’t Crowley, just someone with red hair. But he couldn’t deny the little jump in his chest when a familiar voice shouted, “Aziraphale.”

The young man turned and found those beautiful golden-brown eyes staring at him. At first, Aziraphale was nervous, but there was no aggression or bitterness in those eyes. Only joy and ease. Without thinking, he threw himself forward, wrapping his arms around Crowley, apologizing profusely.

“I’m so sorry for how I acted during our last encounter. That wasn’t fair to you, you were just trying to help and I was so frightfully rude-“

“Aziraphale calm down. You’re talking too fast.” Aziraphale took a few breaths, not realizing he was trembling. “Are you alright?” Crowley set his hand on Aziraphale’s arm in hopes to steady the trembles, which caused the blonde’s entire body to tense. Crowley must have noticed, because he moved his hand to Aziraphale’s shoulder, though he still expected an answer to his question. Aziraphale would have told him everything was fine, but based on the reaction and resulting argument that happened last time he tried to answer dishonestly, he felt it wouldn’t be a wise idea. Slowly, he shook his head. Crowley gave Aziraphale’s shoulder a light squeeze. “What is it? Maybe I can help.” Aziraphale shook his head again, much faster this time, his hands gripping his hair. He couldn’t tell Crowley. Then he would know what Sandalphon had done to him, was doing to him, and then he would see just how disgusting he was. He couldn’t bear that thought. 

Arms encircled him, pulling him close to a warm chest and the steady thump of a beating heart. “Okay we won’t talk about it.” Crowley soothed. Aziraphale relaxed, letting out a breath. “And you should know I’m not mad at you.”

Aziraphale looked up at him, surprise on his face. “W-what? Why not?” He asked. “Not that I’m not grateful, I am, truly. But I would understand if you were. I was awful to you.”

Crowley sighed. “It hurt, yeah. But I also kinda understand why you snapped at me like that.” He thought for a minute, his golden eyes wandering and looking but not exactly seeing. “I want to take you somewhere after you’re done here. It isn’t too far and it won’t be for too long, but it’ll help explain everything. Would that be alright with you?” Aziraphale nodded and Crowley pulled out of the embrace, though he still kept his hand clasped in Aziraphale’s. “Okay then.”

They finished the shopping as quickly as they could. Usually Aziraphale would be nervous to rush because if he forgot something, Gabriel would be furious, but his curiosity far outweighed his fear. He wanted to know what Crowley had to show him and how it would make him understand. Once they’d finished buying everything on the list, he thought they were going to go straight to the stables, but Crowley said he’d needed something as well. 

Near the entrance to the town was a flower stand, where a kind older woman sold the most beautiful plants grown from her very own garden. Aziraphale watched Crowley as he purchased a bouquet of snapdragons, carnations, and calla lilies, meticulously arranging them so the colors complemented each other and the smaller flowers seemed embraced by the larger ones rather than suffocated by them. But his expression concerned Aziraphale. The golden eyes were stoic, and when he was finished, he only said a small, quiet thank you to the woman who ran the cart. He asked Aziraphale if he would mind putting the bouquet in his basket, but his voice was flat, automatic. Aziraphale obliged but was curious as to what was going on. He had an idea but his thoughts were all running wild and he could barely control his heart hammering away at his ribs as they walked to the stable. 

Crowley was oddly silent and solemn the whole time. Aziraphale had never seen him like this. While he wasn’t exactly the kind of person who openly wore their emotions on their sleeves, he was still a fairly open person. This was the first time Aziraphale had seen him so closed off. His face was completely neutral and while his eyes were usually full of passion, joy, thought, anything really, as they walked to the stable, he noticed that Crowley’s eyes were empty. There were no thoughts or emotions, just a wall. Gathering a little courage, Aziraphale reached for Crowley’s hand, taking it in his and giving it a small squeeze. Crowley broke out of his trance and looked at their interlocked hands before looking back at Aziraphale, a weak smile on his face.

The ride out of town was a quiet one, though it was still very fast. Mercury began their journey on a similar route towards Aziraphale’s house but turned left at the fork rather than right. There were nothing but pine trees surrounding a simple dirt path. Aziraphale hadn’t ever been down this path before, but it still gave him a very uneasy feeling. It seemed to have a similar effect on Crowley because the further they rode, the more tense he became, going rigid under Aziraphale’s arms. He refused to say anything and it seemed all of his concentration was being used to guide Mercury, but it was all very automatic. He knew where he was going. His hands knew the way to tug at the reins and which direction to lead Mercury, but while his body was in the saddle, it was obvious his mind was elsewhere.

They emerged from the wooded path and stopped in front of a silver gate. As Crowley helped Aziraphale down, a shudder emerged from him. Aziraphale suddenly realized why they were both so uneasy. They’d stopped in front of a cemetery. Crowley tied Mercury’s reigns to one of the posts on the gate and told him to be good before gathering the bouquet from Aziraphale’s basket and taking him by the hand as they walked through the gate.

The path they walked was one Crowley seemed to have walked many times. Once again, his body had taken control while his mind was elsewhere. 

“Here we are,” he said. They’d stopped in front of a large headstone, decorated with ornate floral carvings. In the center was a carved inscription.

_Lilith Versuchen_

__

_  
_  
_

Loving Wife

_  
_

Devoted Mother

_  
_

Dear Friend

_

Crowley knelt down in front of the headstone, reverently placing the bouquet on the ground in front of it. 

“Hello, Mother.” He murmured. “I…I’ve brought someone. A friend of mine.” He looked over his shoulder at Aziraphale and patted the ground next to him. Aziraphale knelt on the ground next to his friend and gently placed his hand on the bit of raised earth under his knees. 

“Hello. Lovely to meet you.” He said gently before turning to Crowley. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“’S alright.” He said. “It happened a long time ago. And it still hurts but, well I’ve had a long time to process.” He put his hand on the ground as well. “I was pretty outward about my mourning, but my sibling tried to internalize everything.” He looked Aziraphale in the face, his eyes intense. “It nearly destroyed them. You should have seen how it affected them. They were a completely blank canvas, there was nothing on their face. They wouldn’t let anything show and they insisted they were fine but it was taking a real toll on them.” He sighed, looking back to the headstone. “I came into their room one night to see how they were doing, and found them on the floor shivering and seizing and sobbing. Nothing I said got through to them they were just…lost.” A haunting shadow passed over Crowley’s face. “It took everything to get them back to the present and even after that, they were physically ill for two weeks. It was terrifying. They’d internalized absolutely everything and it just ate them up inside.” He looked back at Aziraphale. “It almost killed them and if something like that happened to you, and I didn’t do something to try and help, I’d never forgive myself. So yeah. That’s why I got so bent out of shape the other week.” He took a breath, letting it out shakily.

“Crowley.” Aziraphale murmured. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry. I…I…”

Crowley silenced him with the softest touch to his face, his hands cradling his cheeks. “It’s okay, Aziraphale.” He whispered. “Just promise me you’ll tell me if something’s wrong. Even if you don’t want to tell me what it is, don’t pretend that everything is okay.”

Aziraphale laid his hand on top of Crowley’s, pressing his soft palm and gentle fingers to his cheek.

“I…I don’t want to worry you. Or…or bother you…”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley murmured, “I’d rather be bothered a hundred times, worry for the rest of my life than not know that you were suffering.”

The fluttering warmth rose in Aziraphale again, but it was laced with fear and a little distrust. Why did he even care if Aziraphale kept it all inside? Nobody cared what he thought, how he felt. Heck, the number of beatings he’d gotten for crying was staggering. But, there was that look in Crowley’s eyes again, it was so sweet and sincere. And there wasn’t a trace of cruelty or dishonesty. He cared. He really cared.

“Okay. No more keeping it all inside.” Aziraphale said.

Crowley smiled, breathing a sigh of relief, the joy clear on his face. “Thank you.” He said, before rising slightly and pressing his lips to Aziraphale’s forehead. The blonde could feel his face getting hot and Crowley’s face was rapidly turning red all the way up to the tips of his ears.

“I-I’m sorry I don’t know what came over me.”

“No no, it’s alright. I just wasn’t expecting it. I-It was nice, though.”

A ditzy smile came over Crowley’s face before his expression went back to neutral and he pulled Aziraphale to his feet. 

“Is your mother buried here? Perhaps it would be a good idea to visit her.”

Aziraphale shook his head. “She wasn’t buried here. I would show you where she is now, but I need to be getting home soon.” He thought for a moment, a foolish idea coming to his head. “But I do want to show you where she is. Maybe…it might help. I haven’t visited her very much lately, and…”

Crowley set his hand on Aziraphale’s face again, a gentle and knowing smile on his face. “Where should I meet you? And when?”

“My home, around midnight. Everyone should be asleep by then.” Usually, he would know better than to sneak out after dark. But the little voice in the back of his mind, that was focussing far too much on how handsome Crowley’s eyes were or the softness of his palms, was also telling him that he’d be safe with Crowley. The little flutter was blooming in his chest and in a matter of moments, the excitement of meeting Crowley after dark and the warm feeling of security he felt in his arms far outweighed his fear.

“Right.” Crowley murmured. “Well, I should get you home then. Wouldn’t want you to be late for supper.” The red haired man turned toward the gate again.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley turned back towards him, a brief flash of worry in his eyes. 

“Yeah?” Crowley asked. “What is it?”

_Kiss me_. The voice in Aziraphale’s mind whispered, though to him it sounded more like a shout. What? No! He couldn’t ask that of Crowley. What would he think? It would make him so dreadfully uncomfortable. Not to mention a request of that nature would be just downright rude. Where had that thought even come from? He didn’t feel that way about Crowley…certainly he didn’t…at least Crowley didn’t feel that way about him…didn’t he…?

Crowley was still looking at him expectantly.

“Th-thank you.” Aziraphale murmured.

Crowley took three steps towards Aziraphale, closing the distance between them, and took Aziraphale’s trembling hands. He was so close Aziraphale could smell his cologne and the smokey scent of his skin. His eyes were just at the level of Crowley’s lips.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley breathed, “…o-of course. It’s my pleasure. Any time you need _anything_ at all, just call on me.” Crowley dropped his hands and began walking towards the gate again, a bit of a quickness to his steps. Despite Aziraphale telling himself that he didn’t feel anything romantic towards Crowley, he couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed.

* * * * *

Aziraphale’s heart was pounding and his thoughts were filled with images of Crowley all throughout his afternoon chores and through dinner that evening. If Gabriel noticed, he didn’t say anything about it, thought Sandalphon seemed to have taken an interest in Aziraphale’s sudden daze. 

His mind was so preoccupied, he almost missed Gabriel speaking to Uriel and Michelle once dinner was finished.

“Girls, this afternoon I received word that I’ll need to go overseas and meet with a representative with one of our allied countries.”

“Overseas?” Michelle repeated. “Father, are you sure that’s wise?”

Gabriel smiled at his daughter’s concern and for a moment, he looked genuine. “Nothing you need to worry about. It’s just a discussion about renewing our trade agreement. But it will take me away for all of the summer.” Sandalphon straightened up in his seat and the look on his face made Aziraphale very nervous. “So your uncle and I agreed that you two will stay with him until I return in the autumn.” Gabriel turned to look at Aziraphale. “You’ll accompany them and see to their needs, is that clear?” 

Aziraphale nodded wordlessly but his mind was elsewhere. Gone were the thoughts of Crowley and they were replaced with images of Sandalphon, standing over his bed at night, smiling at him with those lustful eyes and horrid grin. If that was the brunt of what Aziraphale got from him here, what depraved things would he attempt to do under his own roof?

As Aziraphale looked from his stepfather to Sandalphon, he wanted more than anything to vomit, an icy chill creeping up his back.

All summer. He would be trapped with him all summer and he'd be away from everything he knew and loved. Away from his home, away from his beloved library, the town, the children, Tracy…away from Crowley. And there was nothing he could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys honestly don't know how hard it is for me to wait until Wednesday every week. I absolutely love posting this story and the comments you guys write and the kudos you give are so kind and thoughtful.  
> My life has been really busy since classes started, but I honestly prefer the structure even with the work that comes with it. It makes me feel like I have at least a little control. Oh and I auditioned for my school's production of _She Kills Monsters Virtual Realms_ which is apparently a play about D&D which I am SO here for.  
> Thank you all so much for reading, kudos and comments are appreciated, and have a very lovely day.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Sexual assault, attempted rape, inappropriate touching, non-consensual touching and kissing (this particular scene will be marked by a set of asterisks so anyone who wants to avoid this but still wishes to read the soft that comes after knows which section to avoid). Also mentions of death and references to abuse  
> Please take care of yourself and your mental health
> 
> This chapter is likely the darkest out of all of them, the others will be pretty angsty but they won't be this dark.

***** Aziraphale lay trembling in his bed, still fully dressed and too full of adrenaline to even think about sleeping. Part of him was waiting impatiently for midnight so he’d be able to see Crowley, the other half of him was too busy feeling nauseated after Gabriel’s announcement at dinner.

Three whole months with Sandalphon? How in the world was he going to survive?

The door to his room swung open and footsteps approached his bed. Aziraphale went rigid as a board of wood as the familiar, rough hand brushed his cheek.

“The whole summer.” Sandalphone mused. “Three whole months with you all to myself.” Aziraphale began trembling. “Think of all we could do together. All the things I could do to you. Perhaps I’ll even let you share my bed rather than sleeping in the servant's wing.”

“No,” Aziraphale whimpered, the little amount of food he’d eaten at dinner threatening to come up. “No I won’t you can’t make me-“

A thick sausage of a finger lay over Aziraphale’s lips, silencing him. “My brother has given me complete authority over you. If you disobey, he bade me tell him. He’ll punish you right proper for not doing as I wish.” His hand traced along Aziraphale’s lower lip before pushing his thumb into the trembling young man’s mouth. “Anything I wish.” The thumb pulled out and the hand began to travel again, tracing over Aziraphale’s neck and down his chest, untucking his shirt and stopping as it reached his breeches “Of course, I am not a very patient man. Perhaps I can’t wait three weeks to get a taste. Perhaps I may just want to know what it’s like right now.”

“N-no! Please-“

“Don’t. Scream.” Sandalphon warned as his fingers worked at Aziraphale’s belt, slipping the tongue through the buckle and pulling it open. With a cold hand, he reached beneath the cloth and grabbed hold of Aziraphale’s flesh. Aziraphale cringed and had to bite his tongue to keep from screaming as Sandalphon began stroking him.

“W-wait!” Aziraphale said, though it came out as more of a yelp. “Y-you don’t want to…do _that_ just yet.” 

The hunger was still in Sandalphon’s eyes but it was laced with annoyance with a small bit of intrigue. “And why not?” He said, his hand still closed around Aziraphale.

“B-because…what fun would that be? Just…getting it without a second thought…i-it wouldn’t be as satisfying. They do say the best things are worth waiting for.”

Sandalphon mercifully let go of Aziraphale, though his trousers were still open and he was still exposed. “And what do I get for my patience?” Sandalphon asked.

“The satisfaction.” Aziraphale murmured, it didn’t sound as convincing the second time. “The…the apples taste much better when…when you’ve waited until they’re ripe.”

Sandalphon grabbed Aziraphale’s chin. “I thought I told you I wanted a taste now.” He thought for a moment. “I may be impatient, but I’m not unreasonable. So how about a compromise.” Aziraphale gulped. “I’ll hold off tonight, but the moment night falls when you are on my property, you _will_ share my bed with me.”

Aziraphale was too relived for the temporary relief to care that the deadline for that promise was only three weeks away. “Th-thank you sir.” He murmured.

“I didn’t say you were off the hook completely. I may need something to tide me over until then, if I won’t be touching you for three weeks.”

The fear returned, Aziraphale’s blood turning to ice. “W-what would that be?” He asked nervously. Sandalphon ran his fingers over Aziraphale’s lips, eyeing them hungrily and licking his own. “Oh. A-alright. B-but only-“

Sandalphon shoved his lips against Aziraphale before the blonde had a chance to finish his thought. It was rough and hungry and within seconds, Sandalphon’s tongue had forced its way into Aziraphale’s mouth, running along the inside of his teeth and the inside of his cheek. Aziraphale struggled, a visceral instinct. Everything in his body told him to get away but he couldn’t move. The only thing that managed to escape him was a few pathetic struggles that Sandalphon quickly stilled with a firm grip around his shoulders and a harsh hand pushing at the back of his head so he couldn’t wriggle away. Aziraphale couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was choking as Sandalphon shoved his tongue further into his mouth.

It lasted all of twenty seconds but for Aziraphale it may as well have lasted an hour and when Sandalphon pulled away, the poor young man just wanted to vomit. His lips and chin were soaked with Sandalphon’s saliva and he was trembling horribly.

Sandalphon stroked Aziraphale’s cheek. “That should keep me…for now.” He said as he stood and left Aziraphale alone in his bedroom. He couldn’t stop trembling and it felt like the air had gone horribly cold.

With his hands trembling, he pulled his breeches up and hastily buckled his belt, jumping to his feet and racing out to the garden and over to the well. As he turned the crank, pulling the bucket from the dark hole below, the only thing he could hear repeating itself in his mind was ‘ _Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! OH GOD!_ ’ He set the pail on the rim of the well and dunked his hand in, lifting as much water as he could to his mouth, trying to wash the foul taste from his lips and tongue. He spat the water into the dirt beside him before reaching in for a second mouthful. He hadn’t realized he’d started crying until he heard a few plops in the bucket.

He’d never felt more disgusting and used in his life. This was all he was, all he was good for. Being the brunt of his stepfamily’s abuse and being Sandalphon’s plaything. He had to keep back a sob because if he let it loose, he was sure it would be loud enough to wake the entire kingdom. But he wanted to scream. He wanted to sob and tell the whole world and scream to heaven above just how miserable, pathetic, and disgusting he was. *****

“Aziraphale?” A soft voice sounded. He looked over and saw Crowley hopping down from Mercury’s saddle. Aziraphale didn’t give himself a chance to think twice, he simply rushed forward and threw himself into Crowley’s arms, nestling against his warm chest. “Aziraphale? What happened? Are you alright?” Aziraphale shook his head, still silent, not wanting the sob to break loose. “What happened? Tell me what happened?” Aziraphale shook his head again. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Crowley. He would see just what a disgusting waste he was and the abandonment would be so much more painful than spending an entire summer with Sandalphon.

A gentle hand brushed along his cheek, wiping away the tears.

“Okay. We won’t talk about it if you don’t want to.” Aziraphale let out a shaking breath. “What is it you wanted to show me?” Oh that’s right. They were going to visit his mother. After the night Aziraphale had just had, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it emotionally, but Crowley had come all this way and he couldn’t disappoint him.

“It’s not too far from here, only about a five minute walk. Mercury can rest in the stable until we come back.” He took the reins from Crowley’s hands and led Mercury over to the stable. The horse nudged his back gently with his nose, eliciting a little chuckle from Aziraphale. It almost seemed like the horse was trying to offer a message of comfort, and the soft look in the animal’s eyes, though he wasn’t very good at reading people let alone animals, was almost a look of compassion. “Thank you, boy. I appreciate that.” He led Mercury to a little empty spot next to the family horse, an old brown mare named Eve, who was currently dozing soundly. “We’ll be back shortly.”

He walked out of the stable and back over to Crowley. “It’s just over here.” He began leading Crowley down an old path that he hadn’t walked in years. It brought back a slew of memories that both warmed and saddened Aziraphale and he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from crying. He was already a pot close to boiling over, he didn’t need to do it in front of Crowley.

A little tug pulled at his hand and he looked back to see Crowley had taken a hold of his fingers and was holding something out to him. A bouquet. It was much smaller than the one they’d bought this afternoon and looked as if they were picked from a personal garden rather than bought from a vendor, but for some reason that made the sentiment that much more lovely. More personal.

Aziraphale took the flowers, offering Crowley a weak smile in return as the two continued to walk down the path. Crowley didn’t let go of Aziraphale’s hand the entire way.

“This is it.” Aziraphale whispered.

A large weeping willow tree stood above them, it’s long branches reaching down towards them and just skimming the ground, like hundreds of long arms reaching for an embrace. The vines were so numerous they almost blocked their view of the trunk…and what sat under it.

Aziraphale pulled back a few of the branches, letting Crowley through the mess of leaves and vines before walking through himself. Crowley looked at the tree and then looked at his friend.

“Oh, Aziraphale.” Crowley whispered.

Sitting against the trunk, illuminated by dozens of tiny fireflies, was an old withered gravestone, a simple platform with a stone angel sitting atop. In the angel’s hands was a tome, on which was carved a short epitaph.

_Grace Principalitus Erzengel_

_Taken early by an illness_

_May the angels sing thee to thy slumber_

Aziraphale knelt on the ground and placed the bouquet in front of the grave. The last time he had visited his mother, he had left flowers as well, but they had long since withered and turned to dust.

“Hello, mum.” He whispered. “It…it’s been a while. I’m sorry I haven’t been by to visit for so long.” He cleared his throat. “I…I brought someone I’d like you to meet.” Crowley knelt down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “T-this is Crowley. Coming here was his idea. He…he’s been looking out for me lately and…and…oh I just can’t do this anymore!” He wailed. Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale and pulled him close to his chest. “I miss her Crowley. I miss her so much. She was my rock, my protection and then she was just gone. I wasn’t even there when she died. I…I miss her.”

“Sshh, sh sh.” Crowley soothed. “’S alright. I’ve got you.”

“I thought I was strong enough to get by, but it just hurts so much.” The pain all came crashing down on Aziraphale like a wave in a storm. All of it had built up and now had overflowed. His mother’s death, Gabriel’s abuse, Sandalphon’s horrible gazes and hungry touches, and especially that disgusting kiss from earlier. He couldn’t handle it.

“I know, I know.” Crowley whispered. “I’m here. I’m right here.” He pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s forehead, lifting his hand to gently stroke Aziraphale’s blonde curls as he sobbed into Crowley’s shirt. “That’s it, just let it out.”

There was a tug in Aziraphale’s chest. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Love. It was pure and strong and it was blooming from his chest and filling him to the brim. There was a small trace of fear poisoning it, but it was still there. It was warm, warmer than the strongest roaring fire in the dead of winter and he could feel it from his chest down to his feet to the tip of his nose. It had only been two months since he met Crowley, the logical side of his mind told him that he was being foolish. But the other part of him, the emotional side, was screaming at him, turning flips and dancing, shouting that he was in love. He was in love with Crowley. In love with the kind, red-haired man next to him, holding him close, drying his tears, and keeping him safe.

Slowly, Aziraphale pulled away from Crowley’s chest and looked into his eyes. They were glowing with the soft light from the moon and the little dancing illumination from the lightning bugs. Aziraphale breathed slowly as he lifted a hand against Crowley’s cheek, taking in the soft feel of his skin and the light prickle of stubble on his cheek.

Their lips met. It was only a quick touch before it was over, but it was a beautiful and lively as a firework.

“I’m sorry.” Crowley said quickly. “I shouldn’t have…I should have asked before. I…I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t.” Aziraphale murmured, tracing his hand along Crowley’s cheek again. Despite the fact that Sandalphon had forced a kiss from him not even an hour earlier, he found himself wanting to give one to Crowley. Fully and truly. It was his choice, his desire.

When their lips pressed together again, the feeling of that brief flash of of electricity sparked again. This kiss wasn’t hungry or desperate. It was sweet and warm and gentle, and it was so soft and loving it felt almost like it was a kiss from a dream. It felt so delicate that even the smallest croak of a frog or rustle from a leaf would break it, but that made it so much sweeter. Whatever this was between the two of them, it was still small and fragile, but Aziraphale would hold it close to his heart, nurture it, let it grow into something beautiful. For Aziraphale, it was the whole world. Just him and Crowley, together.

Crowley gently wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s waist and back, holding him close, making him feel safe and protected. Making him feel loved.

Crowley broke the kiss, looking sadly at Aziraphale’s face.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” The red-haired man asked.

Aziraphale brought a finger to his eye only to find more tears. “I don’t know.” He said. “There’s so much inside me. But…but I’m happy. That much I can say.”

Crowley leaned in, gently kissing under Aziraphale’s eyes and brushing the tears away. “That’s all I want.” He whispered. “All I want is to see you happy.”

Aziraphale pulled Crowley close, resting his head over his chest and listening to the steady beat of his heart. He’d have to go back home soon, he’d have to face his stepfather and stepsisters and Sandalphon. But for right now, he could just stay with Crowley, here in their own little eternity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well the boys finally confessed! Yay! Also thank you to instagram user @lazylubels.art for the lovely piece.  
> I hope you all liked this chapter. I love this story so much!!! It makes me feel so happy when I see how many people have read it, gave it kudos, and commented. It just warms my little heart so much :) <3  
> Not gonna lie, I've been feeling really good the past could of days. Classes are going well and even though work is piling up, I'm feeling really productive and happy.  
> The kudos and comments are so very appreciated.  
> Thank you all for reading and have the loveliest of lovely days


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Discussions of sexual assault, attempted rape, and abuse.

He wanted that night to last forever. To never have to go back to his stepfather’s house and never have to worry about Sandalphon touching him again. Just sit with Crowley under the willow tree, hold him close and feel safe and warm. But he knew that was just wishful thinking. They both would have to go back home eventually. After all, Crowley was a noble. He most likely had duties to attend to, and Aziraphale had chores.

But he could forget about that for right now. He just wanted to drink in this moment with Crowley, snuggling close to him as he tenderly stroked his blonde curls with gentle fingers.

His other hand was occupied with Aziraphale’s, his thumb gently circling Aziraphale’s knuckles. Every so often, his redheaded companion would let out a contented sigh.

“What is it?” Aziraphale asked.

“Your hands.” Crowley answered. “I like them. They’re delicate and small, but you can tell they belong to a hard worker.” He gently flipped his hand over, tracing his fingers along the callouses in Aziraphale’s palm. “They’re firm and sturdy, but there’s also a gentleness to them.” He lifted the hand to his lips, setting a soft, sweet kiss on the back. His fingers went back to tracing along Aziraphale’s knuckles until they brushed over the brass ring on his pinky. “What’s this?” He asked, eyes glowing with curiosity.

“My mother’s wedding ring.” Aziraphale said. “She gave it to me when…I’m sorry, you probably don’t want to hear about that. It’s boring.”

“I want to hear everything about you.” Crowley said as he brought a hand to Aziraphale’s cheek again. "The good, the bad, the boring. Everything."

“My father died at sea when I was three.” He began. It could have just been his imagination but he thought he felt Crowley holding him tighter as he said it. “My mother said I reminded her of him. I'm actually named after him as well."

"Your father's name was also Aziraphale?"

"No, my father's name was Caleb, which is my middle name. Mother wanted me to value hard work and character, like my father. But Aziraphale is the name of and angel in one of my mother's favorite books." "An angel? That's fitting." Crowley joked. Azirpahale rolled his eyes before continuing his explanation. "He was ostracized from the other angels, but he had a love for humanity and life and well everything. She said that even though he was alone, he still found the strength to be kind and gentle."

"Reminds me of someone." Crowley said, kissing Aziraphale's forehead.

"Anyway, Mother had to remarry if we wanted to keep our stability. After all, an unmarried woman with a whole estate and business to manage. People wouldn’t have thought it was proper.” He sighed. “My mother was brilliant, though. She could have managed it far better than any of Father’s associates. But they looked down on her simply because she was a woman.”

“Ridiculous.” Crowley muttered.

“That’s what I thought.” Aziraphale went on. “But, no matter how foolish the rules were, my mother knew she had to provide for us. She when I was six, she married Gabriel, one of Father’s business associates.” He tensed when he said his stepfather’s name. Crowley began stroking his hair again and Aziraphale found himself relaxing under his ministrations. “He insisted that Mother wear the wedding ring he bought for her and get rid of my father’s ring, but Mother could bring herself to do it. She loved my father dearly and wanted to keep at least a small reminder of him in her life. So she gave her wedding ring to me.” He twisted the ring, running his finger over the angel wings engraved over the faded brassy surface. “I wore it on a chain around my neck until the chain broke. That was when I was about sixteen, so my hands were large enough to just wear it on my pinky.” He chuckled slightly. “You say _my_ hands are small and delicate, you should have seen my mother’s. Her hands were even smaller than mine.” Crowley chuckled as well as he laced his fingers through Aziraphale's. “You would have liked her. She was wonderful. Kind and loving and sweet, but she was a force to be reckoned with. The only reason she didn’t kill Gabriel is because she didn’t know-“ He slapped a hand over his mouth but the damage was done. He’d let it slip. His foolish rambling had accidentally let Crowley in on a secret he wasn’t supposed to know.

Crowley sat up, looking at Aziraphale with intensity and sadness in his eyes. “What didn’t she know?” He asked. Aziraphale trembled. “What’s Gabriel done to you?”

“I…I erm…” Aziraphale stammered uselessly, grasping at anything that would remove him from this conversation, but his mind came up empty.

“Aziraphale please.” Crowley begged, taking Aziraphale’s hands in his.

“You…you have to promise not to get angry.” He said. Crowley gave him a nervous look but nodded. Aziraphale let out another nervous breath as he slipped his hands out of Crowley’s and his left hand began tugging at his right sleeve, rolling it up to his elbow. Crowley gasped and his eyes widened. There were bruises and welts all over Aziraphale’s arm. Some were from being grabbed too hard, others were from a cane or a switch. Aziraphale knew this wasn’t even the half of it. There were even more wounds on his back and his knees were covered in scrapes and bruises from kneeling on the jagged rocks in the garden, or crawling on his hands and knees when scrubbing the floors.

He shut his eyes tight. He could just imagine Crowley’s response.

_“I had no idea you were such blunderer.” “You must have done something to earn all these marks.” “I was such a fool for thinking you’re worth a damn.”_

He knew it was going to come, and he knew he deserved it, but he couldn’t stand the thought of it. He didn’t know which was worse, the rejection that would inevitably come or the silence leading up to it.

“Well,” he said, “please say something. I can’t stand this.”

“Oh, Aziraphale.” Crowley breathed. Aziraphale opened his eyes and saw Crowley’s gaze lingering over each and every one of the marks, a saddened look in his eyes. Sad wasn’t exactly the right word. Utter pain and devastation was more like it. He looked like he was going to be sick as he looked at each and every one of the wounds and when he eventually raised his eyes to look back up at Aziraphale, he was on the verge of tears.

“Don’t cry, dear, please don’t cry. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have shown you. I wouldn’t have if it knew it was going to upset you-“ He was cut off by Crowley pulling him into a tight embrace, as if he thought he could keep out the rest of the world, just hold him and keep him safe. Both of them were shaking.

“Your stepfather did this to you?” Crowley murmured. “Your stepfather hurt you?” Aziraphale nodded. When was it going to come? He knew Crowley was going to tell him to leave, that he didn’t want to be around someone so damaged, so why begin with an embrace? What was he trying to do to his head? “Aziraphale I’m so, so sorry. I had no idea.”

“You’re not upset with me?” Aziraphale asked.

“What?” Crowley asked in return, pulling away slightly. “No! Never! Why would I be upset with you? You’ve done nothing wrong.” He tenderly rested a hand on Aziraphale’s cheek. “Whatever your stepfather thinks, beating you like this is horrible. I don’t care what you did or what you think you did or what he thinks you did, it’s never alright to beat someone, especially your child.”

Aziraphale huffed. “I’m not his child. He likes to remind me of that every chance he gets.”

Crowley pulled him close again, resting a soft kiss on Aziraphale’s blonde curls. “Is this why you were crying earlier?” Something sank in Aziraphale as he sighed and shook his head. He didn’t want to tell Crowley, but he had a right to know. If Crowley wanted to be with him, then he should know just how disgusting and used he was.

“I was crying because of Gabriel’s brother, Sandalphon.”

“Why? What did he do?” It was clear Crowley was trying to keep the anger out of his voice.

Aziraphale began trembling. “For a few years now he’s taken an…interest in me.” Anyone within a ten yard radius would have felt the rage radiating from Crowley. “He’s visiting us until the beginning of summer and every night he would come into my room and…please don’t make me say it.”

“Only say what you want to.” Crowley tightened his grip on Aziraphale. It wasn’t harsh or suffocating, but it was just a tight enough of a squeeze to remind Aziraphale that he was safe safe with Crowley. If only it were true.

“Well, tonight at dinner, Gabriel announced that he’ll be taking a voyage to a neighboring kingdom that will last all summer, so my stepsisters and myself with be staying with his brother.” The rage in the air grew even more potent. “And tonight when everyone else was asleep, Sandalphon tried to…” Aziraphale gulped, feeling sick again, trembling in Crowley's arms, “…have me.”

“What?!” Crowley roared. Aziraphale trembled at his raise in tone.

The redhead took a few breaths to calm himself as he gently rubbed a hand up and down Aziraphale’s back. “I begged him not to, and he settled for a compromise. So…he kissed me.”

“How dare he?! He had the nerve to lay his filthy hands on you, to force you to kiss him-”

“He didn’t force me. Not really. I agreed to it.” Aziraphale said pathetically. Crowley looked back at him and touched his cheek again.

“You didn’t want it. That much is clear. You’re not at fault, Aziraphale. You don’t have to make excuses for that…that… monster.” He began seething again, doing his best to keep his anger under control, before he went pale. “Oh, oh goodness, I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable and I never would have done it if I had known.”

Aziraphale laid a soft kiss to Crowley’s palm, which was still settled against his face. “You have nothing to be sorry for, dear boy. I wanted that kiss. And I,” he went rather pink at the thought of it, “I rather enjoyed it. And I wouldn’t be opposed to more kisses from you in the future.”

Crowley gave him a warm smile before gently touching his lips to Aziraphale’s. It was just as sweet and loving as the first one, though this time there was a trace of fear in it. Crowley was holding him delicately, like he was holding a butterfly, careful, not wanting to hurt him.

Crowley broke the kiss first, once again to find that Aziraphale had tears in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Aziraphale breathed, "it's just I...I'm not used to being touched so gently." There was so much emotion running through Aziraphale's chest and he didn't know what to make of it. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time but the unfamiliarity of the sweetness made him cry.

"No, don't be sorry." Crowley said, brushing the tears away. "Ssh, it's alright." He thought for a moment. “I’ll make it so you never have to see them again. We can run away tonight, I can take you to my family home and-"

"Gabriel would do something," Aziraphale argued, still trembling, "he'd get the law involved. By all accounts, I'm still his ward until I marry or until I own property of my own."

"I can go to the king." Crowley said. "I can get an audience. He'll be arrested for his crimes. The both of them will."

“Please don’t do anything rash.” Aziraphale begged. Crowley may have been a noble, but so was Gabriel. And he was a high ranking noble at that. He was the right hand to the governor and he sat on the town council. He was one of the most powerful people in the kingdom, just under the governor himself, and the governor was just under the duke, who was only one step under the royal family. He could make it so Crowley would never cause trouble for him again, discredit his family name and send him on the next ship to the jungle. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Crowley looked like he was about to say something, but thought against it, taking a breath. “I’ll make this right. I swear.”

Aziraphale wanted to believe him. He really did. But years of abuse and disappointment had taught him that wishful thinking was merely a trap that you set for yourself. “Gabriel has power and influence. He can hurt you.”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley said. His voice was low but his eyes were full of passion, “I swear to you on the soul of my mother, I will take you away from them and take you somewhere no one will ever be cruel to you again.”

“How?”

Crowley held Aziraphale's face in his hands, his face only a breath away. His voice was a quiet whisper as he looked into Aziraphale's eyes.“I’ll find a way. I promise you. I’ll find a way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a holiday, so have another chapter for this week. I hope you guys liked it, and I'm sorry for how dark the last one was. But a lot of people were begging Crowley to figure out the truth and I didn't want to torture you guys much longer. I hope you all liked it, there was much soft to be had.  
> So me and my friend moved back onto campus yesterday, we're living in a townhouse and it's so cute! And we have our own kitchen and everything and I'm gonna bake cookies at some point and tonight we're gonna order pizza and watch Good Omens (he's never seen it but is excited to watch it based on how much I got on about it).  
> Thank you all for reading and have a very lovely day!


	10. Chapter 10

Aziraphale treasured that night. He kept it in the back of his mind all throughout the next week. When he would sweep the halls, his mind would wander to the image of Crowley’s golden eyes in the light of the fireflies and moonlight. When the pain in his legs and back from scrubbing the floors became too much, he would think about the promise Crowley made him. And when the horrible things his step family said or did to him drove him to tears late at night, he would think about the sweet and tender kisses and it would make him smile.

There were even a few days when Crowley would write him a letter. Now that he knew the full extent of Aziraphale’s life, he wanted to make sure that Aziraphale had something nice to brighten his days. So whenever a mail courier would knock at the door, Aziraphale would always answer with his heart in his throat. He would tuck the letter into his pocket and save it for when he was alone in his room. The lovely words would always bring a smile to his face and he would fall asleep clutching the letter to his chest.

Saturday afternoon, almost a week after that night under the willow tree, Gabriel and Sandalphon were out visiting one of their business associates and Michel and Uriel were attending a salon hosted by one of their friends, so Aziraphale had the house to himself. On rare days alone like these, he would spend as long as he could in his mother’s library. Gabriel hadn’t had the time to read for pleasure, nor the desire, and Uriel and Michelle much preferred to spend their time practicing their embroidery or gossiping with the other noble daughters. If he were being perfectly honest, Aziraphale preferred it this way. His mother’s books were so incredibly precious to him and he only felt comfortable letting those who would appreciate them touch or read them. His stepfamily was certainly not a part of that very small group.

While he was reading, there was a knock at the door. Aziraphale huffed and marked his page before making his way down to the front hall and opening the door to a mail courier. In his hands were two letters, one for Aziraphale, one for the entire family. The one for Aziraphale was written in Crowley’s familiar elegant yet still somewhat disorganized scrawl. The one for the whole family had no address or sender written on the back, but there was a wax seal on the fold with a ribbon tied off. Pressed into the wax was the coat of arms of royal family.

Aziraphale was intrigued but Gabriel would be furious if he found out he’d gone through a letter that was for him and his daughters, so the blonde simply left it on the dining room table, turning his attention back to his letter from Crowley.

_Dear Aziraphale,_

_I regret to inform you that I will be unable to join you in the market tomorrow. My father and I have had a bit of a disagreement and I’m hoping to speak with him once again tomorrow after his temper has cooled down. My sincerest apologies, but I look forward to seeing you at the ball-_

Ball? What ball? Nobody said anything about a ball.

_I hope you stay well and I give you all my love and a kiss._

_Stay strong, Angel_

_Ever yours,_

_Crowley_

Aziraphale let out a happy sigh as he slipped the letter into his pocket and walked back to the library, though he was still wondering why Crowley had mentioned a ball.

His stepfamily came home a little over an hour later, Michelle and Uriel chittering about the latest gossip they’d heard in their circle of friends, though there was something different about this string of whispers. It was much more animated and excited. Sandalphon and Gabriel were too busy discussing business matters to notice the girls but this had Aziraphale intrigued and as they passed by him into the drawing room, most likely to wait for him to bring the afternoon tea, he heard snippets of their conversation.

“-it’ll be just delightful-”

“-perhaps Father will take us into town to buy new gowns-”

“-a whole week! I can’t wait that long-”

Before he could hear the rest, they had passed by him. Besides, he needed to get to the kitchen and get to work on fixing the tea, though his curiosity was piqued, both by Crowley’s letter and his stepsisters’ conversation. He had a feeling they were talking about the same thing.

As he brought the tea tray out to the drawing room, he made a quick detour into the dining room and set the letter on the tray, finally starting to put the pieces together.

“Gabriel, sir?” Aziraphale said as he set the tray down.

Gabriel huffed, not happy to be interrupted. “What is it Aziraphale?”

“A letter came for the family while you were out.” He said as he held the letter out to Gabriel.

“It’s what we were telling you about in the carriage, Father.” Michelle said as Aziraphale began serving everyone.

Gabriel picked up the letter opener and sliced open the envelope, pulling out a small letter written on cream colored paper.

“ _To the family of Gabriel Erzengel,_

_A week from now, our beloved Prince Anthony will be celebrating his twenty-first birthday. To celebrate this occasion, there will be a masquerade ball in his honor. This ball will also serve as an opportunity for the prince to intermingle with the people of our noble kingdom, not only to serve as a way to get to know the people he and his sibling Prince Beelzebub will rule over at the passing of our King, but will also serve as a way for Prince Anthony to find a suitable spouse. All eligible young men and women are expected to be in attendance for presentation to the prince._

_We await to see you and your family in attendance._

_Long Life to Our King._

_Signed,_

_Lord Dagon, Official Scribe to King Lucious Teufel_ ”

Michelle and Uriel became even more excited as their father read the invitation. A ball was one thing but a ball with the possibility of being wed to a prince? This was something else entirely. An opportunity to advance. To rise in status. The two of them were giddy with the thought of becoming royalty, but Aziraphale’s mind was instead occupied with thoughts of Crowley. How dashing he would look in a fine silk jacket and waistcoat, the feeling of being held by his gentle hands as they danced through the night. It sounded like heaven.

In his daydreaming haze, he lost control of himself and before he could stop, something slipped from his lips. “It sounds marvelous.”

The family stopped their chattering and looked at him. Gabriel was red with rage, Michelle had a sneer on her face with a trace of excitement as she waited for the earful Aziraphale was about to get, and Uriel had a condescending smirk across her lips.

“And what makes you think you’re going to the ball?” Gabriel asked as he rose from his chair.

Aziraphale began stammering, looking around the room at his stepfamily and hopelessly grasping for an excuse.

“Erm…well…I-I thought…It says all eligible young men and women…”

Michelle snorted. “That’ll be a laugh. Who would want to be seen dancing with you?”

“Michelle, that’s enough.” Gabriel said, his voice flat. Everyone in the room went still as he approached Aziraphale. Gabriel had never once scolded his daughters for mocking Aziraphale. If anything he encouraged it. So why was he stopping it now?

And why was _he_ approaching _Aziraphale_? Even if it was just five steps, Gabriel always ordered whoever it was to come to him. But now he was walking towards Aziraphale. What was going on?

As he approached, he had a look in his eyes that Aziraphale did not like. “The letter does say that all eligible young men and women are required to attend. And I wouldn’t want to break the law.” What kind of game he was playing? “So Aziraphale, if you can find yourself a suit and finish all your chores in time, then you’ll be allowed to attend with us.”

Aziraphale’s face went slack, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped in shock. Over on the couch, his stepsisters wore a similar expression.

“S-sir? Are you feeling alright?” Aziraphale asked before he could stop himself. He expected to get a slap for his impertinence but Gabriel simply chuckled.

“Of course I’m feeling alright. Why wouldn’t I be?” Aziraphale glanced at his stepsisters, who were glancing at him. They may not have seen eye to eye but they knew when something was up with Gabriel. Aziraphale exchanged a look with Michelle who simply shrugged.

“You…you really mean it?” Aziraphale asked timidly.

“Aziraphale,” Gabriel said as he set his hand on his stepson’s shoulder, “who am I to deny the request of our king? So, finish your chores and find yourself a suit before the ball. How does that sound?”

“Y-yes sir!” Aziraphale said excitedly before heading back out to the foyer to finish the chores he’d neglected that afternoon.

He couldn’t believe it! It was almost too good to be true! Gabriel was letting him go to the ball! 

As he grabbed the broom and began sweeping the dirt from the front hall, his mind began to wander and was filled with images of a grand ballroom with a crystal chandelier, the beautiful colors and shimmers of the ballgowns and silk jackets, the flowing music. And Crowley said he would see him there! He would look so handsome. They would dance and laugh all night. Before Crowley would bid him good night, he would hold him close and…

Goodness he’d been reading too many romance stories.

A furious blush came over his face as he continued to sweep, doing his best to not let himself runaway with his daydreams again.

It was only one week away, but he couldn’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to kick into motion aren't they? How many of you think Gabriel is being sincere?  
> Anyhoo, thank you all so much for reading, kudos and comments always make my day. Thank you for reading and have a lovely day!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Abuse (physical and mental) and fat shaming

_Sunday, 18 of May_

_My darling Crowley,_

_Wonderful news! I've been allowed to attend the ball! Gabriel says just so long as I finish my chores and find something suitable to wear, I'll be allowed to go! That shouldn't be too hard, should it? My sewing skills are a little out of practice but I've mended torn seams on old garments all the time, and I'm sure I can round up some fabric. I can't wait! This week feels like it will be dreadfully long, but at least we'll get to see each other on Friday night!_

_I'll keep you updated if anything changes._

_I return your kiss with three of my own, and all my love to go with them._

_Yours and always yours,_

_Aziraphale._

* * * * *

“Aziraphale!” Uriel called.

What now? He was still in the middle of dusting the fireplace, which had been previously interrupted by Uriel ordering him to shine her shoes and then interrupted a second time by Gabriel ordering him to mend a hole in his jacket. They certainly were keeping him on his toes.

His letter to Crowley was...mostly accurate. Gabriel was still letting him go if he finished his chores, but he didn't mention that Gabriel was beginning to pile them up as well. No matter, things were...just busy around the house and Aziraphale needed to keep up if he wanted to attend. He had to keep them happy.

He set down the dustpan and hurried up the stairs to his stepsister’s room.

“Yes, Uriel?”

She was just finishing lacing up her gown. “The mirror needs polishing.” She said, flicking a hand towards the tall looking glass on the wall.

“Yes, miss. I’ll get to it right away.” Aziraphale said.

It was only eight in the morning and he was already exhausted. He hadn’t even started on breakfast yet!

He hurried back down to the kitchen and into his room, where the different brooms and cleaning supplies were kept. There he found a bottle of mirror polish and a rag, which he grabbed and rushed back upstairs, where Uriel was waiting impatiently.

“I’ll have this clean in two shakes of a lamb’s-”

“Aziraphale!” Michelle called. Oh dear.

“Just a minute, miss!” He called back. “I’ll help you as soon as I’m done-“

“Just hurry up and get over here already!”

“Yes, miss!” He said as he soaked the rag in the polish and began scrubbing the mirror.

“Aziraphale! Have you started on breakfast yet?” Gabriel called from his room.

“N-no sir!” Aziraphale called back. “I’ll start cooking as soon-“

“Get to it! I don’t want to hear your excuses!”

“Yes, sir.” Aziraphale called, scrubbing faster. He finished as quickly as he could, but no doubt Uriel would find something wrong with it. But he didn’t have time to finish his mistakes. He had to get to Michelle and then he had to get to breakfast. He burst out of Uriel’s room and ran down the hall to Michelle’s.

“Yes, miss Michelle?” He said, quite out of breath.

Michelle turned to face him. “Took you long enough. Were you lollygagging again?”

“N-no miss.” He said. “I was just helping your sister and-”

“Shut up.” Michelle snapped. “You didn’t lace my corset properly. Fix it.”

Aziraphale nodded and quickly set to work, re-lacing Uriel’s corset. He was sure that he’d laced it correctly the first time, but if he said that to Uriel, he’d likely get a good slap for his trouble.

Something was up. He’d never had so many chores in one morning before. Not once in his life. Maybe this was a ploy of some kind to keep him-

“Not so tight, you cretin!” Michelle shrieked, spinning around and smacking him. “If you’re not going to do this right, I’ll do it myself.”

He lowered his eyes to the ground, his face going slightly red with embarrassment.

“Of course miss. I’m sorry-”

“Just get out of my sight!” She huffed.

Aziraphale silently backed out of her room, his eyes still on the ground. He walked as quickly as he could back down to the kitchen, trying not to fall over from exhaustion, and got to work on breakfast. He had to be extra careful to not burn anything but not too careful that he took too long, his family was already upset with him.

He was used to having quite a bit to do around the house, but this was ridiculous. Nobody could do this much. It was as if they expected him to be in two places at once. There was no concievable way he would get all this work done and still find time to make a suit.

Wait a minute.

Gabriel said…no he wouldn’t…not even _he_ would stoop that low.

“Aziraphale? We’re waiting.” Gabriel snapped form the dining room. Oh dear now he was late with breakfast. It was already ten after eight, they would all get a late start and it was his fault.

As he set the plates of sausage, bacon, bread, and a tea tray on the table, Gabriel grabbed him by the wrist.

“I expect much better rom you, Aziraphale. Ten minutes late will not be accepted in this house. I thought you knew that by now.” His grip tightened and Aziraphale had to bite his lip to keep the groan from escaping. “You’ll have to do better if you want to attend the ball. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yessir.” Aziraphale said, a bit breathless.

“Good. Now go make yourself useful and start on the rest of your chores. You’re already ten minutes behind so you’ll need to get a move on if you want to keep on schedule.”

“B-but…” he was about to speak but stopped himself. He was already in enough trouble, he didn’t need to add anything else to the list.

Sandalphon spoke up. “You’re not going to feed the boy, Gabriel?” It wasn’t out of concern. He spoke with the tone of voice someone used when they were letting someone else in on a practical joke.

Gabriel looked towards his brother and then towards his stepson, a smirk on his face. “He can eat when he’s finished his chores.” He said. “Besides, he looks like it wouldn’t hurt him to miss a meal.” He roughly tapped Aziraphale on his stomach and laughed, the rest of the family joining in. Aziraphale left the room, red in the face and utterly embarrassed.

He was such a fool. Gabriel had just been trying to fool him and to get his hopes up. There was no way he would have time to finish his chores. Even if he did, he would’t have the energy to make something suitable to wear to the ball, and Gabriel wasn’t going to give him any money to buy a suit or even the fabric to make one. Even if by some chance he did manage to to finish his chores and make a suit, Gabriel would almost definitely go back on his word to let Aziraphale go to the ball. If Aziraphale was even awake enough to attend.

No, no he'd do everything that was asked of him, and he'd do it with a smile on his face. Anything to get back into his stepfather's good graces. Perhaps if he was pleased with the work Aziraphale did, maybe, just maybe, he'd let him attend.

The rest of the morning went by about the same. He would start on one chore, Michelle or Uriel or sometimes Gabriel would call on him for some other task and he wouldn’t get a chance to finish his original chore before somebody noticed and got angry with him. It was only Monday. The ball was still five days away and they were already piling on extra chores.

By lunchtime he was ready to drop. He was quite sure he would fall asleep standing up while his stepfamily ate. He was so tired he barely noticed when Gabriel called his name.

“Aziraphale? Aziraphale did you hear me?”

“Hmm? Oh, yessir. Of course.”

“I haven’t even told you what I want of you yet.”

Aziraphale went pink. “Oh. My apologies, sir.”

Gabriel gave him a look icy enough to freeze a volcano. “If you’re going to be so lazy you can’t even bother to pay attention, perhaps I should reconsider my decision to let you attend the ball.”

“Oh, no sir. I’ll pay attention. I’ll do all that’s asked of me.” He said quickly.

“As I was going to say, I’m sending Uriel and Michelle to the tailor’s shop to order their gowns and I’d like you to go with them to deliver mine and Sandalphon’s jackets so they can be properly trimmed.”

“Yessir.” He said.

As soon as the lunch dishes were cleared away, Gabriel gave about thirty silver coins each to his daughters and seven to Aziraphale along with his fine lavender coat and Sandalphon’s brown silk jacket. He also gave him a warning, if Uriel or Michelle saw him trying to spend even a penny on something that wasn’t for the jackets, there would be hell to pay.

With that, the three were out the door. His stepsisters climbed into the family carriage while Aziraphale saddled up Eve and climbed into the driver’s seat. With a flick of the reins, Eve was off, pulling the carriage with a slow graceful trot.

Soon they reached the town and Aziraphale led his stepsisters to the tailor’s shop. Adam was sitting by the door on a little stool and his face brightened when he stepped through the door. He was about to call out to him or run up and embrace him when Aziraphale’s face went pale, glancing at Adam and then back at his stepsisters, shaking his head at the young lad.

Adam’s mother stepped out from behind the counter to greet the three of them. She knew Uriel and Michelle, though not nearly as well as she knew Aziraphale, so she was allowed to be at least somewhat familiar with them.

“Hello, ladies, Aziraphale.” She greeted them with a nod and a warm smile. “What can I do for you today?”

“Our father sent us to order some ballgowns.” Said Michelle, a condescending sneer on her lips.

Adam’s mother did her best to be accommodating. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. We have more orders than we can handle. Why don’t you come to the back and my husband and I can get your measurements and then show you some designs.” She look behind them towards her son sitting by the door. “Adam, why don’t you help Aziraphale.” She said as she led the two towards the back of the shop.

Adam hopped down off his stool and ran over to Aziraphale. The blonde sighed with relief as he held out his arms to the boy, who hugged him tightly. “You look terrible.” Adam said.

“That’s not very polite.” Aziraphale quipped back.

“I mean you look like someone beat you with a shovel. Has someone been cruel to you? Was it your stepsisters? D’you want Pepper and Wensley and Brian and Warlock and me to go show them what for?” He said, nodding towards the back.

“Hush.” Aziraphale said, not wanting his stepsisters to hear Adam’s accusation. “They’re not doing anything.” He lied. “I just haven’t been sleeping very well lately. Nothing you need to worry about.”

“C’mon, you can tell me.” The boy leaned in like he was hoping Aziraphale would let him in on some kind of secret. “Are you going out at night to fight dragons?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.” Aziraphale joked.

“Wicked.” Adam said, his large blue eyes aglow. Seeing his enthusiasm cheered Aziraphale slightly. “So what d’you need?”

“Gabriel wants his and his brother’s jacket’s trimmed and decorated, please.” He handed the jackets to Adam, who set them on the counter for his father to get to. The young lad was still learning how to embroider properly. He was very skilled at sewing, from what Aziraphale had heard, but his parents most likely didn’t want him working on a jacket for such a high class customer such as Gabriel, and not with such an intricate and delicate trim job either.

“That’ll be seven silver coins.” He said as he wrote out an order ticket.

“So how have you been faring with the preparations for the ball?” Aziraphale asked as he handed the coins to Adam.

“It’s mental.” Adam said. “Dad wants me to help him more, which I don’t mind, but I need to work on my measuring, I’m not very good at it.” His eyes lit up. “You could help me with that.” He said, a large grin coming over his face.

“I-I could? How?” Aziraphale stammered.

“Come over here.” Adam directed him to a little corner of the shop, pulling out a stool, a notepad, and a roll of numbered tape. “Dad says I need the practice so I could take your measurements and see how I need to improve.”

“Are you sure your father would be okay with this?” Aziraphale asked nervously.

“Absolutely.” Adam said. “I need to practice and you’re not going off anywhere until your sisters are done. So how about it?” Aziraphale was silent, thinking for a moment. “Please?” Adam added.

“Oh alright.” Aziraphale said as he held out his arm. Adam grinned as he wrapped the tape around his wrist and wrote down the measurements.

It only took them about fifteen minutes and Aziraphale rather had fun with it. Adam was a delightfully good sport about it and he was much more skilled than he gave himself credit for. Aziraphale would even go far as to say he didn’t need the practice, but Aziraphale was still glad to help.

By the time Adam had finished, his stepsisters had emerged from the back, their measurements taken and had decided what kind of gown they wanted and what kind of fabric as well. They paid Adam’s father and the three left.

It could have been Aziraphale’s imagination, but he could have sworn that there was a mischievous grin on Adam’s face as they left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ball is getting closer. And somebody's got a plan cooking. I'm not gonna say who it is, but I'm just gonna say that they're a planning.  
> I hope you all enjoyed that chapter. Things at my end are really busy, but I'm happy.  
> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated, they make me so very happy.  
> Thank you all for reading and have a lovely day!


	12. Chapter 12

The week leading up to the ball was torture. In a similar fashion to Monday, Aziraphale barely got a moment to himself. It was a miracle any of his chores got finished at all. If he wasn’t sweeping or mopping or cooking or mending or washing or dusting, he was assisting his stepsisters with some kind of menial or altogether pointless task. Wednesday afternoon, Michelle had surprised him by asking him to grab a book for her from the library. He wasn’t at all happy about it but he went and grabbed one he thought she would like. She called him back five minutes later because the book was not up to her standards and she asked him to put it back and fetch her a different one. This went on for fifteen minutes before she finally decided he’d had enough and let him get back to his chores.

If he were being perfectly honest, it was absolutely ludicrous. He knew what they were doing and he was fairly certain they knew he knew, so why bother with keeping up the facade of letting him go if he finished his chores? He’d felt they’d made their point.

Friday morning, the entire household was abuzz and Aziraphale was being pulled in every different direction.

“Aziraphale! I need help with my hair!”

“Aziraphale! Come fix this buckle on my shoe!”

“Aziraphale! Go answer the door!”

Aziraphale rushed down the stairs and breathlessly opened the door to see Adam standing on the doorstep, a pile of wrapped parcels in his arms.

“Here are all the orders!” The lad said cheerfully. Aziraphale did his best to hide the stress in his eyes.

He took the parcels and told Adam to wait while he went to fetch his payment. He set the parcels on the little end table in the foyer and rushed up to Gabriel’s room.

“Sir?” He said as he knocked on the door.

“What is it?” Gabriel barked as he opened the door.

“Adam from the tailor shop just dropped off the gowns and jackets.”

“About time they finished those.” Gabriel said. “Is he still here?”

“Yessir. I told him to wait so I could fetch some payment for him.”

“We already paid for the gowns and such. You don’t need to give him anything more.”

“B-but sir, he took the time to come out here and deliver them and-”

“Not another word, Aziraphale!” Gabriel said with a sharp slap to his face. “Now tell him to leave and get back to your chores.” Before Aziraphale could say anything else, Gabriel shut the door in his face.

Normally, Aziraphale would simply grin and bear it, but he couldn’t let Adam go unpaid for all his hard work. Quick as he could, he rushed down to his room and reached under his mattress, fishing out two of the silver coins he was able to scrounge together and ran back to the door.

“Here you are, my dear boy.” Aziraphale said, a bit out of breath.

“You didn’t have to. I don’t mind making deliveries. It’s fun.” Adam said.

“I know, but you still deserve to be paid for your work.”

“So why aren’t _you_ paid for all the work you do?” Adam asked. Aziraphale was quiet.

“You deserve better than them, Aziraphale.” Adam said. “So much better. You should run away with that red-haired man.”

Aziraphale’s cheeks went pink. “Red-haired…you know about him?”

“S’not like you guys are exactly subtle. I see you guys walking around the market, holding hands every week. He makes you happy. You deserve to be happy.”

Aziraphale sighed before giving Adam a sad smile and saying, “Thank you Adam. Have a lovely rest of your day.” Adam gave him a little grin before Aziraphale closed the door, breathing out another heavy sigh and gathering the parcels in his arms.

He was done. He was far too weary to put up with the facade anymore. Adam may have claimed he deserved happiness but the only way to be happy was to get away from his family. But Gabriel had enough power and hold on the law that he could bend it to his will. He could make it so Aziraphale was under his jurisdiction until he died. Then after Gabriel’s death, Aziraphale would be placed in the employment of one of his stepsisters. This was his life until he broke, ran away, or was traded away like a piece of property.

Of course, there was always finding a decent marriage.

No, that was silly. Even though he was technically a noble by birth, if anyone saw what he was now, they’d be disgusted.

But there was always Crowley. Maybe he would…

No Aziraphale wouldn’t do that to Crowley. He was too kind and wonderful and sweet and he didn’t deserve to be saddled with such a disappointment for a husband.

Aziraphale sighed as he knocked on Gabriel’s door.

“What is it?” Gabriel snapped.

“I have your jacket.” Aziraphale said wearily.

Gabriel opened the door and took the parcel from him. “Make sure you’ve finished all your chores. I want this house spotless before the ball. And you’d better be ready on time.”

“I’m not going.” Aziraphale said flatly. He had to keep it together. Once they left for the ball, he could break down, but he had to keep that under wraps until then.

Gabriel smirked. “What a pity.” He gave Aziraphale a smile and then closed the door.

Aziraphale sighed as he went along to the other rooms, delivering the parcels to the rest of his stepfamily. He was a little nervous that Sandalphon would ask him to assist with getting ready but he was relieved when he asked nothing of him. Uriel and Michelle both smiled when he gave them their gowns and the smiles grew when they heard that Aziraphale wasn’t going to join them. He sighed as he gave Uriel her parcel, the door shutting in his face. Now that he’d finished giving everyone their parcels…wait, there was one left. That couldn’t have been right. They were only expecting four parcels and they’d been given five. Oh dear, he’d accidentally been delivered someone else’s package. Who did it belong to? Perhaps he could return…His name was on the parcel. This was for him.

As quick as he could, he held the parcel to his chest and ran down the stairs into his room, closing the door behind him.

Why did Adam give him a package? He hadn’t ordered anything. And he was certain nobody would want to send him anything, aside from Crowley, but his name wasn’t written in Crowley’s handwriting.

Slowly, Aziraphale opened the brown paper and pulled out a note.

_Dear Aziraphale,_

_We figured that you probably wouldn’t have time to make a nice suit for the ball, because of all the time you spend fighting dragons. So we started pooling our allowances but we were only able to get half the money. But then someone came into our shop and said that he wanted a suit made for you and paid for it in full, even gave us a little extra. Somebody with red hair._

_I hope the suit fits, I made it all myself…okay Dad helped a little. I hope you like it and I hope you have a fun time at the ball._

_From,_

_Your friend Adam._

_PS. Next time you’re in town, will you tell us the rest of that story? Pepper thinks that the maiden is going to be the one to kill the beast and that she’ll punch the knight in the face instead of marrying him, but we say she’s wrong._

Aziraphale was so touched by the note, he almost started crying. He didn’t even know what was in the parcel but the thought that Adam and his friends had tried to use their money to do something nice for him? It was just so moving. But what was more, Crowley had paid for suit for him. Crowley had made sure he would have something to wear to the ball. His heart swelled as he began unwrapping the parcel.

As he removed the final layer of brown paper, he almost gasped. There, in the remnants of the wrapping was a beautiful blue suit. The jacket was made of a soft velvety material with white embroidery in a swirling pattern all down the button line and around the cuffs. The same with the pants. They’d even included a white waistcoat and a light blue silk shirt with a cravat. It was such fine craftsmanship and it looked so beautiful. Now he was actually crying. He was so touched that Crowley and the children wanted him to have a good evening. And he would make sure their gift wasn’t going to go to waste. That evening, he was going to the ball, no matter what Gabriel said.

* * * * *

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Michelle and Uriel both decided to have lunch brought to their rooms so Aziraphale had to bring a tray up to them and then served Gabriel and Sandalphon, who were both gabbing about how Prince Anthony would surely marry one of the girls and how wonderful it would be to become royalty. Not having to worry about financial stability or paying taxes, and on top of that, having multiple servants instead of one, incompetent one. Aziraphale was rather put off by that comment but kept his mouth shut like always.

Around six in the evening (the ball began at half past seven), Uriel and Michelle began to get dressed, and Gabriel and Sandalphon retired to their own rooms, Aziraphale going to assist Gabriel.

As he fetched his stepfather’s best waistcoat and breeches, Gabriel began musing. “It really is a shame that you won’t be joining us, Aziraphale.” He said, though the smirk on his face told the blonde that he wasn’t even remotely remorseful. Aziraphale said nothing. “You’ve never been to a ball, have you?” Aziraphale silently shook his head. “I went to several, before I married your mother.” He said it as if it were his mother’s fault that he didn’t attend them anymore. Aziraphale clenched his fists but still said nothing. “You truly are missing out on a wonderful experience.” Aziraphale held out the silk shirt to his stepfather, who pulled it over his head, then tugged on his breeches. “The music is just delightful and the food is the most scrumptious thing you’ve ever tasted. People tend to pull out all the stops for a ball. And this one is hosted by the royal family. Oh well.” Gabriel said as he buttoned up his waistcoat. “Perhaps you’ll attend the next one.” Aziraphale helped him into his jacket, still saying nothing. “That’ll be all. Your dismissed.”

Aziraphale gave him a curt nod and bowed from the waist before slowly walking out of the room. As soon as he was alone in the hallway, he bolted down the stairs, into the kitchen, and out into the garden. His hands shook with excitement as he turned the crank and pulled up a bucket of water and set in on the rim. As quickly as he could, he scrubbed the dirt from his face and hands, rubbing the clean water into his skin and then pouring some over his head into his hair. It wasn’t the most efficient bath, but it would have to do if he wanted to leave on time. He finished scrubbing his hair and ran back inside, quickly drying it with a dish towel (thankfully a clean one) before dashing back into his room and removing the blue suit from the wrapping. He made quick work of dressing himself, though he unfortunately didn’t have any shoes aside from the ones he was already wearing, but he didn’t exactly care about the fashion of the time. As long as he was at the ball, in Crowley’s arms, he would be fine.

He finished dressing just as he heard the carriage pull up at the front door. Perfect timing.

The sound of footsteps came from the front hall, his stepfamily was about to leave. It was now or never.

“Wait for me!” He called as he walked as quickly as he could into to foyer.

Gabriel was addressing his daughters, coaching them on how to act for royalty and to be the epitome grace and poise and charm (if they even had any). As soon as Gabriel heard his voice coming from down the hall, he turned to face him.

“Aziraphale, I thought you weren’t coming.” Gabriel said. There was a smile on his face, but it didn’t reflect in his eyes.

“Well, sir, I changed my mind.” Aziraphale said. “ Hearing you go on earlier about how enjoyable the ball will be made it all too tempting so I decided that I wish to go.” Gabriel’s eyes went wide with shock. “I’ve finished my chores and I have something suitable to wear, so I…I can attend?” Perhaps bringing up their bargain would help sway things in his favor.

Gabriel’s expression turned from one of shock to one of pure anger, looking at Aziraphale like he wanted to tear him to pieces.

“You, little ungrateful sneak.”

Aziraphale went pale, trembling as his stepfather walked towards him, rage in his eyes, ready to take action. And Aziraphale would be caught in the crossfire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhangers. I'm so evil.  
> I hope you guys liked that chapter. Happy bisexual day of visibility!   
> Things on my end are starting to get busy but hopefully I'll be able to stay on top of things. I hope things go well for you all too.  
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated. Thank you all so much for reading and have a lovely day!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Physical and emotional abuse, beating with a cane, ripping off one's clothes, slut shaming, fat shaming, threats of violence/murder, and degradation.

“B-but sir…I thought you said…”

The back of Gabriel’s hand struck across Aziraphale’s cheek. “You rat! I give you shelter and food, keep you in my care when I should have just dumped you out on the street, and this is the thanks I get? You want more from me?” Another slap came, this one even harder than the first

“N-no sir!” Aziraphale stammered. “I’m very grateful for all you’ve done for me, it’s just-“

“Silence!” Gabriel roared as he struck Aziraphale for a third time. “You’re more foolish than I thought! What made you think I would ever let myself or my family be seen with a dirty kitchen boy? A runt leftover from a second marriage? You really think I’m so daft that I would present myself in front of the royal family with you parading yourself around like you’re a part of my family?” His fist pounded into Aziraphale’s stomach and the blonde fell to the floor, shivering and coughing. “This is just a ploy to see that red- headed good-for-nothing you’ve been cavorting with, isn’t it? You want to be seen on his arm like some little whore!”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened as he sat up slightly. “How did you-”

“I have eyes all over the place, Aziraphale! You forget that I own half this town! Someone tells me they’ve seen my stepson out with some rascal, bringing shame to my family! You were planning on seeing him tonight weren’t you?” Aziraphale lowered his eyes. “So I was right. You were planning on dancing the night away while he showed you off to all the town like a pretty trinket! Did you plan on going home with him tonight? Letting him bed you like the trash you are?”

“W-what? No! That’s not-“

“I thought I told you to hold your tongue!” Gabriel bellowed, following it up with another slap to Aziraphale’s face. “You really are an idiot!” He grabbed hold of the frilled collar of Aziraphale’s shirt, pulling him to his feet. “If I see you with him ever, or if I hear tell that you’re seen with him again, I’ll have him hung so fast your head will spin!”

“No!” Aziraphale begged. “No please you can’t do that! Please I love him!”

It slipped out before he could stop it and it hung in the room like a fog. Uriel and Michelle, usually entertained by their father’s torment of Aziraphale, were now quivering, their eyes wide. The beating and the berating were all par for the course, but their father had never threatened to have someone killed before. And Aziraphale’s outburst had likely sealed the deal.

Gabriel threw Aziraphale to the ground and kicked him in the stomach before grabbing onto the fabric of the jacket and giving it a mighty yank, tearing it right down the middle. He slapped Aziraphale again, the force knocking the blonde onto his back. Gabriel reached down and tore the waistcoat from his chest, sending thread and buttons flying everywhere.

“Sandalphon, your cane if you will.” Gabriel said.

Sandalphon, who was rather enjoying watching as Aziraphale was beaten and stripped, took his cane in hand and gave it to his brother, who harshly struck the back of Aziraphale’s knee, flipping him onto his stomach.

“You are nothing. You think you’re high and mighty simply because your mother treated you like a little prince. You’re too blind to see the truth. To see what a disappointing, stupid, fat, fool.” He tossed away the remains of the jacket and waistcoat before gripping the silk shirt and tearing it with all his might, exposing Aziraphale’s back. “If you refuse to learn that, then I suppose I’ll have to beat the lesson into you.”

He raised the cane and brought it down, the polished wood causing a quick breeze to brush over Aziraphale’s skin before he was hit. He cried out in pain as Gabriel brought it down again. Then a third time and then a fourth. Each strike was more painful than the last, coming down with deadly accuracy just between Aziraphale’s shoulder blades. Sandalphon, Uriel, and Michelle were silent as Gabriel beat Aziraphale, the only noise in the hall came from the sharp smack of the can against Aziraphale’s back and the wails of pain that followed.

He struck him ten times, using all his strength with each one. There would have been more, but he remembered that the carriage was waiting for them. So he left Aziraphale writhing on the floor, sobbing into the pile of torn fabric, giving him one final kick before leading his family out the door.

Aziraphale stood shakily and walked over to the window, just in time to see the coachman whip the reins of the carriage and drive off. They were gone. There went his chance of having one night of freedom before returning to hell. Perhaps his only chance of seeing Crowley again. No, he couldn’t. If he was seen with him again, Gabriel would have Crowley killed. He didn’t care if Crowley claimed he could handle any of Gabriel’s threats, a threat on someone’s life was simply something you couldn’t ignore. So there went his last chance for happiness as well. He’d never see Crowley again, not after tonight.

More tears came to his eyes. He needed to get out of this house. He couldn’t stand to be here a second longer. The walls were closing in on him. The eyes from the portraits hanging everywhere were all staring at him, judging him and looking at him like the pathetic whelp he was.

He turned and ran for the kitchen, bolting out the back door and into the night, his feet carrying him as fast as possible down the familiar path.

When he was a small child, he would often suffer from nightmares and he would run down the hall on his little legs into his mother’s room. She would always hold him and remind him that he was alright and safe and loved. Now he was living a nightmare and he wanted nothing more than to have her hold him again. Even if it was just for a moment, and even if was just a dream or a fantasy, he just wanted his mother to hold him and tell him things would be okay.

He reached the willow tree and pulled aside the branches, falling to his knees before the headstone under the gaze of the stone angel.

“I’m sorry, Mother.” He sobbed. “I’m so sorry. I failed you. You told me to have courage, but I’m such a coward. I can’t even save Crowley. My dearest companion’s life is in danger because of my stupidity. All I can do is cower and cry and be nothing but a useless stain. I don’t want to spend another minute in that house, but I don’t want to disappoint you more than I already have. Please mother, I need you. I don’t know what to do. I…I need you.” He began to break again, sobs wracking his body and his tears streaming down his face and plopping into the dirt in front of the headstone.

He was so lost and scared and confused. He didn’t know what to do. Crowley was the only one who made him feel safe from his stepfamily’s cruelty, he felt whole and secure and like he was worth a damn around him. He was selfish. He wanted to keep feeling like that. He wanted Crowley to hold him and kiss him and love him but he knew that he would be putting Crowley in danger. But he couldn’t stand another moment living as Gabriel’s slave. If he had to give up Crowley, he wasn’t sure he’d have the strength to go on.

And he still had to worry about Sandalphon! He’d made the deal to go to his bed at the beginning of the summer. That was only a week away! What was he to do?

It was all so looming and terrifying and horrid and all he could think to do was curl into himself and cry.

A soft hand gently stroked his hair, the touch familiar and loving, but it was something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Mother?”

When he looked up, through the blur of tears, he could see a tender smile glowing against the darkness of the late evening sky. His mother was kneeling in front of him, dressed in white with dovelike wings sprouting from her back.

“Mother!” A pathetic cry came form him as he leaned into her and more tears came to his eyes. Warm arms pulled him close.

“Oh my darling boy.” His mother’s voice was still soft and kind, even in death.

“I tried, Mother.” Aziraphale sobbed. “I tried so, so hard but…”

“It’s alright.” His mother soothed, continuing to stroke his hair. “If anyone is to be sorry, it should be me.”

“Mother, no. This isn’t your fault.”

“Well it certainly isn’t yours. If I had known what kind of man Gabriel was, I never would have married him.” She gently traced a line along Aziraphale’s back, the bruises and welts from the cane disappearing under her touch. “I’m so sorry for what he’s done to you.”

Aziraphale looked at the ground. “I…I deserved it didn’t I?”

“No! No certainly not.” Her warm hands cupped his cheeks. “Look at me. None of his abuse was right or deserved.” She pulled him close again. “You’ve always been too hard on yourself my sweet.”

He curled a lock of her golden hair around his finger, like he used to do when he was a small child. She still smelt of honeysuckle and spring air.

“You haven’t failed me.” She whispered. “No matter what you think, I’m more proud of you than you’ll ever know. You are not a coward, my dear. You still find the courage to keep standing even when the world is against you, and though you face cruelty every day, you still are kind and gentle to all you meet.I’ve never been happier to call you my son.” She cupped his cheek again, brushing his tears away. “Now, dry those tears, darling. You have to get ready for the ball.”

“What? Mother, I can’t go, I have nothing to wear. And if Gabriel sees me he’ll-“

“Trust me, my son.” His mother said gently as he pulled him to his feet. “Trust me.” Aziraphale nodded as his mother leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. A warmth spread all throughout his body, like he was being cradled by a soft summer breeze. The wind began to pick up, rustling the drooping willow branches. There was a slight pinch in his feet and back, but it was soon replaced by the feeling of a soft fabric. White silk stockings traced up his legs along with light brown trousers. The torn shirt still hanging off his chest began to mend together, the silk threads reaching for each other until they were whole, turning from a sweet light blue, to a soft white. Something warm and heavy set itself on Aziraphale’s shoulders and arms and something else encased his hands. When he looked down, he nearly gasped. He looked like something out of a dream. Cream colored shoes with a gold buckle and small white ruffle sat on his feet. The silk stockings and trousers shimmered like sunlight and on his torso was a white waistcoat with beautiful gold embroidery. A white silk cravat with a shining gold button hung just below his neck on top of the silk white shirt, which was now decorated with lace at the cuffs. On top of it all was a cream colored jacket. The edges along the buttons were embroidered with gold thread as well and the buttons were engraved with a pattern that looked like angel feathers, the same engraving on his mother’s ring. He lifted his hands and saw they were inside soft white gloves. He looked magnificent.

“Oh Mother…thank you.” He said, trying to hold back tears again. “But what if Gabriel recognizes me? I’ll be in such trouble if-“

“Not to worry, love.” His mother said, brushing her hand over one of her wings. A white feather slipped into her palm and she held it in front of her, breathing over it. The feather began to grow and expand, shining and blooming to look like two small wings. The wings hardened and shimmered and two small holes poked through. A mask. She’d made him a mask.

“Nobody will recognize you when you wear this.” His mother said as she placed it over his eyes. “Not unless you want them to.” She stood back and got a better look at him. “You look so handsome, my son.” She beamed as she embraced him again. “Now, we need to get you a carriage. Unless you’d prefer to walk to the ball” Aziraphale let out a weak laugh as she took a few steps away from the tree and clapped her hands three times. The sound echoed all across the field and a loud neigh sounded in response. The sound of hooves began to pound and a small cloud of dust rose in the distance. The pounding grew closer and closer and the cloud of dust rose higher and higher until it stopped, and Eve was standing in front of them, a brightness and strength in her brown eyes that Aziraphale hadn’t seen in her since he was a child.

His mother strode over to Eve and gently rubbed her muzzle, the horse whinnying and nudging her in response.

“Yes, it has been a long time, hasn’t it, old girl?” She cooed. “I’ll need you to be swift and strong tonight if Aziraphale is going to make it to that ball. Can you do that for me?” Eve reared up onto her hind legs, a strong and spirited neigh emerging from her. His mother smiled. “Wonderful.”

In one swift movement, she bent to the ground and scooped up a handful of dust and moved behind Eve. She took a breath in and blew the dirt into the air. Aziraphale blinked and where once stood empty space now stood a glimmering golden carriage, with six white horses, in need of a seventh. His mother led Eve to the front of the carriage and gently hooked the bridle and saddle to her. Then she looked up to the sky, mumbling something under her breath. There was a flash and a loud crash, like a bolt of lightning and a man with flowing golden hair stood, wearing a white suit and holding a riding whip. From his back sprouted similar white white to Aziraphale’s mother, though he tucked them away as soon as he touched onto the ground. He seemed to be a bit more flesh and blood as well. While Aziraphale could touch and embrace his mother, he could also see through her like she was made of mist. And the longer she stayed, the more transparent she seemed to become.

The golden-haired angel strode over to Aziraphale’s mother, a smile on his face.

“Thank you again for agreeing to this.” His mother said.

“Of course.” The man said, looking to Aziraphale. “So this is your son? He looks so much like you.” Aziraphale flushed slightly. His mother was a beautiful person, both inside and out so he considered being compared to her in any way to be the highest of praise. The golden haired man climbed into the coachman’s seat as Aziraphale’s mother helped him inside.

“I’m sorry to say this my son, but it will only last until midnight. I was only able to procure enough power to keep the miracle alive for four hours, so on the stroke of twelve, all this will be gone.”

Aziraphale leaned out the window and kissed his mother’s cheek. “Just seeing you tonight was enough.”

His mother reached out and touched his face, a sadness in her eyes, regret from time lost. “Still, you deserve to be happy. You deserve to go and dance and be with the one you love.” Aziraphale blushed slightly. “I’m so happy you’ve found someone who treats you with the kindness you deserve.” A little smirk came over her face. “Although perhaps your mother’s grave isn’t the proper place to share a kiss.” Aziraphale’s face went from pink to red. “I’m only joking my dear.” She said as she kissed his forehead again and clasped his hands in hers. “Now go and have a good time.”

The golden-haired man flicked the whip and the horses began moving and Aziraphale’s hand slipped out of his mothers. He leaned further out the window, waving.

“I love you mother!” He called as the shimmering image of his mother began to fade until nothing remained but a few glowing fireflies.

The carriage began to pick up speed, the pounding of the horses hooves thumping in time with his heart beating excitedly in his chest. With every gallop, they brought him closer and closer to the ball until finally the carriage stood outside the gate of the palace.

Aziraphale had never seen a castle before. It was the most grand thing he’d ever laid his eyes on. The whole building was made of white marble, with golden trim. Six towers rose up towards the sky, skimming along the clouds like the fingers of a child touching a pond. Atop each of the towers was a pointed spire of shimmering gold, looking like points of heavenly light against the darkness.

He could hear music from inside and from the bottom of the stairs, he could see the soft golden light floating from the ballroom. There was a thumping that he thought came from the ballroom, but it was coming from his chest. His heart was pounding furiously with the excitement coursing through him. He couldn’t hold back the excited little squeal that came out of him as he exited the coach. His cheeks grew pink as he looked at the angelic being driving the carriage, expecting to see a look of judgement or exasperation, but there was a smile on the man’s face.

“It’s alright. It’s very exciting.” He said gently.

Aziraphale gave him a grateful little smile as he turned to face the stairs again. The smile didn’t falter as he ascended, the heels from his fine shoes clicking against the marble steps. When he reached the top, he could see inside the ballroom just beyond. Everything looked so beautiful and lively and he-

“Halt righ’ thar!” A stern, angry voice shouted.

To the left of the door was a guard wearing a brownish-green jerkin and holding a staff. His uniform suggested that he was a high ranking guard, perhaps a captain or sergeant by the looks of the patch sewn over his chest, but his scruffy gray beard didn’t really read as someone official or even as someone with any kind of authority, but there was a ferocious bark to his voice that made Aziraphale jump.

“Oh, I-I’m sorry, was I doing something wrong?”

“The ball has already begun. There’s nae entry after it’s started. You’ll have tae hop righ’ back into that coach and go right back tae ware ye came from.”

What? This wasn’t on the invitation. No, that couldn’t be. This had to be a joke. But this gentleman didn’t seem to be the humorous type, especially considering the angry scowl he was giving Aziraphale.

“S-sir, please I don’t want to cause any trouble-”

“Then Ah suggest ye get back before Ah give a shout for the gen’ral.”

“S-sir-”

“What’s going on over here?” A voice said. The man looked to his left andfroze. His face was still neutral but there was a look of utter terror came to his eyes. “Sergeant Shadwell, would you care to explain to me what’s going on?”

Aziraphale followed the man’s gaze and his eyes widened. Standing in the grand doorway, wearing an elegant black and gold jacket was Crowley. But he’d never seen him look so refined and well dressed. He looked so handsome. In fact he looked like a-

“Prince Anthony!” Sergeant Shadwell gasped in shock, bowing at the waist.

“P-Prince?!” Aziraphale stammered, his voice exploding from him in an undignified surprised burst. Crowley was Prince Anthony!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale is finally at the ball! But what'll happen next?  
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and the artwork, I worked really hard on both.  
> Thank you all for the well wishes, my brother is recovering at a good pace. And thank you for your sweet comments and all the kudos as well, both are very appreciated.  
> Thank you so much for reading and have a lovely day.


	14. Chapter 14

The shock hit him like a cold burst on a winter morning. He’d been meeting every week with the prince? He’d cried in the prince’s arms? Wait a moment…HE’D KISSED THE PRINCE?! He’d kissed the prince under a willow tree after sobbing horribly about his mother and then the two had cuddled under that tree! And then he’d told the prince about his abusive family! Oh this was just humiliating, the prince probably thought that he was a pathetic little rat.

“Well, yer highness, Ah was just explaining to this lad that the ball has already begun and he’s nae allooed in.”

Crowley, er…Prince Anthony narrowed his eyes. “Who gave you those orders?” He asked. He spoke so differently than when it was just the two of them. He was so relaxed and he spoke so casually when they were alone. His eyes would always crinkle around the edges and his lips would often be curled upward in the lopsided half-smile. Here he looked so serious and stern, Aziraphale was almost nervous seeing him like this.

Sergeant Shadwell nervously shuffled his boot against the ground. “No one gave me that specific order, Ah just figured that yer father woodn’t want latecomers…”

“Sergeant, if nobody gave a specific order, then there is no need to turn him away. For future reference, your orders come from us, not from your assumptions. Is that clear?”

“Yessir.” Sergeant Shadwell said.

“Now I believe you owe this young sir an apology.”

This young sir? Did Crowley not recognize him? He was wearing the mask that his mother gave to disguise himself, so perhaps he didn’t recognize him. But she also said that they wouldn’t recognize him if he didn’t want them to. He certainly wanted Crowley to know he was there, but he didn’t know how all this magic and miracles worked.

With a grumble, Shadwell turned to Aziraphale and mumbled a reluctant apology.

“Thank you for your diligence, Sergeant, but please refrain from being rude to my subjects.” He held out his arm to Aziraphale. “I apologize on behalf of my overzealous sergeant. Allow me to accompany you inside.”

Oh, so he didn’t recognize Aziraphale. So what was Aziraphale supposed to do to get him to realize that they knew each other? Just flat out saying “I’m Aziraphale” wouldn’t work, the prince would would either not believe him, or be alarmed and turn him away. After all, magic wasn’t something everyone knew about. Oh what was he supposed to do?

“You’re squeezing my arm again.” Anthony said, a bit of a chuckle in his voice. “You know you don’t have to be so nervous around me.”

“Oh I’m sorry I…Wait. You mean you…you know who I am?”

Anthony gave him a sidelong glance, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, now bathed in the golden glow of a hundred candles. “No.” He said, smirking. “Should I?”

He was playing coy. Well, two could play at that game.

“Well, I suppose not, Your Highness, seeing as we’ve never met before.” Aziraphale said, just as sly as Anthony.

“You don’t have to bother with the whole ‘Your Highness’ nonsense. Just call me by my name.” The playful tone was still there, but underneath there was a bit of tired sincerity.

“Which one?” Aziraphale asked.

Anthony turned to him, bringing Aziraphale’s gloved hand to his lips. “Whichever one you want. Though, I prefer the one you know me better by.”

He certainly was a sly one. Everyone knew him as Prince Anthony, it was what he was best known as. But Aziraphale knew _Crowley_. He knew his dearest friend, his love, like he had known him all his life. 

“Of course…Crowley.” He said. If he hadn’t been watching his companion’s eyes, he would have missed the happy gleam that they took on for a brief moment.

“And what, may I ask, is your name?” He asked the question as if he were asking Aziraphale a riddle, or telling him a joke. Was this still part of the game? For all of Crowley’s charms, he could be rather confusing sometimes.

“Why don’t you guess what you think my name is.” Aziraphale said, nervously looking around in case anyone from his family was lurking nearby. He gave Crowley a look, somewhere between playful and pleading, hoping that he got the message not to use his real name.

The two stopped walking and Crowley turned towards him again, stroking his chin. “Hmm, let’s see.” He said, lifting his hand away from his face to trace along Aziraphale’s hair. “Soft, yellow hair, like a halo.” Ah, going the poetic route. He gently stroked Aziraphale cheek. “A mask that looks like white feathered wings,” his fingers began to run along the sleeve of his coat, “white and gold coat, almost like a robe,” he brought his hand up to cup Aziraphale’s cheek, “beautiful, cherubic face.” Aziraphale could feel himself going pink. “You look like an angel. I believe that’s what your name is. Angel.”

Aziraphale chuckled and leaned in, like he was letting Crowley in on a secret.

“You do know who I am, don’t you?” He whispered.

“Of course I do.” Crowley whispered back, pressing a kiss to Aziraphale’s forehead, just where his hair met his skin, though the lanky redhead had to bend his knees in order to reach. “I’d recognize you anywhere. Though I have to say your disguise is very fetching. You look so handsome.”

“Look at who’s talking.” Aziraphale said, running his fingers over the smooth silky fabric of Crowley’s elegant black coat. “You look like a dream.”

Crowley flushed, not used to such genuine praise, as he continued to trace little circles into Aziraphale's cheek. "I was a little nervous when you didn't come in with your stepfamily. I thought something awful had happened to you." Aziraphale leaned into the hand on his cheek. "I'm glad you're alright, though. And I'm thrilled with how your suit came out. That young lad and his father are very talented tailors."

Aziraphale's heart sank at the thought of the beautiful blue suit that Adam and his father made that was now sitting in tatters on the foyer floor. He didn't have the heart to tell Crowley, or Adam the next time he saw him, that all their hard work and money had gone to waste.

"Angel?" Crowley said, taking him out of his thoughts. "You alright?"

"Oh...erm...." He was about to say everything was fine, but he remembered the promise they'd made with each other. No secrets. Even if he didn't want to tell Crowley what was bothering him, he wouldn't pretend that everything was okay. "Not exactly." Crowley gave his hand a little squeeze.

"Anything you want to tell me? There's a library just down the hall, nobody should be in there if you need a private place to talk."

Aziraphale sighed. "No. Not now. I just...I want to enjoy tonight. Enjoy your company."

Crowley smiled, continuing to lead Aziraphale towards a large room where a swell of voices and music was pouring through a large set of open doors, when his footsteps suddenly stopped.

"Crowley?" He asked. 

"I erm...I owe you an apology." Oh dear, he was going to say it. He was going to tell Aziraphale that he didn't love him, or that he was too low to be a considerable companion for a prince. "I should have told you from the start."

"Told me what?" Aziraphale asked nervously.

"That I was the prince. I shouldn't have hid it from you. But I...I couldn't stand the thought that you would think too much of me or that you would be scared away. I didn't want to keep it from you, but I...I was scared that you wouldn't want me because of it."

"Crowley, that's...that's utterly ridiculous." His companion turned his gaze from the floor back to Aziraphale. "Whether you're a prince or a stable boy, you've shown me more kindness than I deserve, have made me feel endlessly happy. And I do want you. But not because of what you are, because of who you are. You're not prince Anthony around me. You're just Crowley. You're just _you_."

Crowley leaned down and pressed their lips together, and it wouldn't be the last time that night Aziraphale reckoned. But still he was happy to just melt into the kiss and feel Crowley's warm hands on his back. But the sound of the smell of the delightful food and the sound of the music and joyful voices distracted him.

"You deserve everything that I've given you and more." Crowley whispered before closing the distance between them again. Aziraphale flushed, feeling suddenly awkward and caught off guard by the comment.

"Crowley," he murmured, hoping to shift the conversation away from him. Crowley opened his eyes and looked down at Aziraphale, "as much as I adore kissing you and would be happy to kiss you for the rest of the night, I would like the experience a bit of the ball."

Crowley chuckled as he offered Aziraphale his arm again and they stepped into a flood of music and warm, golden light.

Most of the people were continuing with their dancing, mingling, or sampling of the fine food and wine, but a few people turned to look at them. One person bowed at the waist and soon more people began to bow, the sudden movement triggering more people to turn, to realize and to bow. Crowley acknowledged everyone bowing and gave a wave of his hand, a silent message to let everyone go back to their dancing or mingling as he walked into the large ornate room with Aziraphale on his arm. Some looked on with pure envy, some with awe. All the sudden, Aziraphale began to feel rather shy and exposed, with so many people looking at him. There were eyes everywhere, staring at him. Were there people there who recognized him?

His stepfather’s threat drew him back to earlier that evening.

“ _I have eyes all over the place, Aziraphale! You forget that I own half this town!_ ”

No doubt some of them were here.

A warm hand settled on his shoulder.

“Are you alright?” Crowley whispered.

“There’s…there’s so many people. Staring at us.”

“We can go out to the garden if you’d like. It should be quiet out there.”

“No. I…I just…I don’t know.”

He continued to look around, the constant gaze of the people around him was starting to become dizzying. His mother had said that nobody would recognize him if he didn't want them to, but how could he be sure? Maybe it wasn't working. Even if it was working, all the people in the room were looking at him, scrutinizing him. What right did he have to be on the arm of the prince in any case? He was a nothing, a little insignificant-

Crowley’s hand found its way to Aziraphale’s chin, slowly turning his gaze away from the crowd to him, his eyes full of love and concern.

“Don’t focus on them, just focus on me.”

Aziraphale moved his hand so it was settled over Crowley’s chest. The steady thump pulsed against his palm even through the thick silk and wool. The steadiness grounded him and the warmth of Crowley’s arms made him feel safe. He took a breath in and let it out as Crowley once again lifted Aziraphale’s hand to his lips.

“Care to dance?” He asked.

Aziraphale looked towards the dance floor, where couples stood close to each other, the silks skirts of the ladies fanning out in elegant circles and the heeled shoes of the men made soft clicks against the tiled floor. It was all a swirl of beautiful colors and warm candlelight.

“I’d be honored.” Aziraphale whispered.

Crowley offered his the arm again and led Aziraphale to the dance floor.

The music began to swell around them, a soft, sweet, waltz, and the colors in Aziraphale’s vision began to swirl. A firm but still tender hand settled on his back, just under his shoulder blade and his other hand was enveloped in warm, slender fingers. “I’m right here. I want to make sure you have a good time tonight. But if you need a break, just say the word and we’ll stop and go out to the garden. Okay?”

Aziraphale sighed with relief, a little smile coming across his face as he placed his hands on Crowley’s shoulder.

“Okay.”

Crowley took the lead, gently swaying Aziraphale and leading them in small, graceful circles, their feet dipping out delicately. At first it felt like the room was spinning and Aziraphale began to feel a little dizzy. But soon, they began to fall into rhythm and Aziraphale could feel himself beginning to relax. He was where he belonged, safe and warm in Crowley’s arms.

The room stopped spinning and it seemed like the whole world had gone quiet, focussing on them, but this time, Aziraphale didn’t notice. He didn’t care who watched and who looked away. He didn’t care if someone cursed him or blessed him for dancing with the prince. The only thing that mattered to him were the warm, tender hands holding him and the beautiful, kind face looking lovingly at him.

He looked up into Crowley’s eyes, almost drunk on the lovely contented feeling settling in his belly, and Crowley gazed back. The two were silent, but the things that were said in that one stare, that one longing look into each other’s eyes…it could have filled whole libraries.

The song ended, bringing the two lovestruck fools back to reality as the rest of the people in the hall turned and applauded the musicians. Crowley removed his right hand from Aziraphale’s shoulder, but kept his left hand firmly clasping Aziraphale’s.

“I’m feeling rather peckish. Can I tempt you to something?” Crowley asked as he led Aziraphale from the dance floor.

“Temptation accomplished.” Aziraphale said with a little chuckle.

There were whole tables set up with all kinds of lovely little morsels and just the sight of them made Aziraphale’s mouth water. They went down the line, sampling everything that looked appealing to them. Mostly it was Crowley asking what Aziraphale wanted to try and going along with what he wanted. By far, his absolute favorite were the delicate little cream puffs. As soon as he popped one into his mouth, he gave a little sigh.

“Tracy made these.” Crowley said. “As soon as my father and I decided to throw this ball, I knew exactly who I wanted to employ for all the baked goods.”

“Oh Crowley, that’ll give her so much more business in the future. That’s so kind of you.”

Crowley went a deep scarlet. “‘M not kind.” He mumbled.

“Oh you certainly are.” Aziraphale teased as he kissed Crowley’s cheek.

“Hush, you.” Crowley teased back.

They laughed and joked and danced and talked. Alternating between standing off towards the side of the room and waltzing away on the dance floor. Every so often, someone would come up to Crowley and try and introduce themselves or their daughters or sons. Crowley would cordial with them but his body language would always suggest that he had a dancing partner. The whole time, Aziraphale remained perfectly content, on Crowley’s arm or swaying along with him to the splendid music. He wished this night could last forever.

They were back out on the dance floor, at first they were surrounded by other dancing couples, but soon, Crowley began to get extravagant; fanning Aziraphale out for little elegant twirls, dipping him seductively. Soon the other people stopped dancing and formed a circle around the two, just watching as they danced. Aziraphale looked around at all the people watching them and a few beads of sweat began to dot his forehead.

“Just focus on me.” Crowley whispered. Aziraphale leaned back into Crowley, taking in the sensation of his hands on his shoulders and his back. While they spun, Crowley set both his hands on Aziraphale’s waist. “Do you trust me?” He whispered. Aziraphale planted his hands on Crowley’s shoulders.

“With everything I am.”

Crowley lifted Aziraphale from the floor, spinning both of them in a circle. Their toros were pressed together with Aziraphale’s arms resting around Crowley’s neck. Crowley’s arms stayed firmly secured around Aziraphale’s waist as the blonde kicked his leg out to the front, pointing his toes as Crowley spun him. When his feet were back on the ground, they continued their spin, only this time, Crowley lopped one arm around Aziraphale’s waist and the other took a hold of his leg, just under his knee, and the two leaned down and back into a graceful dip.

The little twinge of desire got the better of Aziraphale and he raised his lips to meet Crowley’s. At first the redhead was surprised, but after a brief moment, began to return the kiss as well. They didn’t hear the crowd clapping around them, nor see the countless stares, they just held each other.

Aziraphale was the first to break the kiss, a little breathless, and flushing horribly. “I’m so sorry, I should have-”

“Don’t you dare apologize.” Crowley said, rather breathless as well. At first Aziraphale thought he was angry with him, but there was a smile on his lips and there was nothing but adoration in his eyes. Aziraphale blushed again as they righted themselves, Crowley bowing at the waist to his partner and Aziraphale doing the same before Crowley escorted him off the dance floor to get something to drink.

“Tonight has been wonderful.” Aziraphale said once he and Crowley were away from the most crowded part of the dance floor.

“I’m glad.” Crowley said.

“It’s mostly owed to you, you know.” Aziraphale said.

“Wha…? Me?”

Aziraphale nodded. “You’ve stayed with me all night, you’ve talked with me, danced with me, you’ve made me so happy tonight.”

Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale, the blonde pressed his ear against Crowley’s chest. The soft thump hummed against him, such a lovely and soothing sound.

“I want to make you happy all the time.” Crowley said.

Aziraphale let his eyes drift closed, listening to the steady beat.

_Thump_

_Thump_

_Thump_

“I’ve been wanting to ask this for quite some time. I was planning on saving it until the end of the ball. But, I don’t think I can wait anymore.”

_Thump_

_Thump_

_Thump_

_BONG!_

The clock tower on the top of the castle let out a fierce ring. Aziraphale’s eyes jerked open and he looked toward the clock hanging on the wall just above them and a jolt of adrenaline and panic swept through him

Midnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! So I'm in a really good mood. Yesterday was my birthday and some of my castmates and I had a picnic in one of the fields on campus a few hours before rehearsal. A friend of mine brought cake and I brought cookies that I made the night before, and we played this really fun card game and then at rehearsal, (well it was actually recording since the play is being done over zoom) we filmed my absolute favorite scene that I'm in and I got to play Elder Scrolls with my best friend and I was great. I also uploaded a new story as sort of a birthday gift to myself and to you all if you want to check that out. It features ample amounts of angst and soft.  
> So I hope you all enjoyed that chapter, and thank you so SO much to [shaverma_iz_ada](https://www.instagram.com/shaverma_iz_ada/) for the absolutely beautiful artwork.  
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated, it always warms my heart to read the wonderful things you all say about my work. Thank you so much for reading and have a lovely day.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Sexual Assault, attempted rape, non consensual touching/kissing, (will be cut off by asterisks if anyone wishes to skip that particular moment), self deprecating and depressive thoughts, and slight body horror (nothing too graphic). Please take care of your mental health.

“Aziraphale, will you-”

_BONG_

“I’m sorry I have to leave!”

“What? What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

_BONG_

“There’s no time to explain, I just…I need to leave!”

Aziraphale twisted himself out of Crowley’s arms and began to run but something pulled him back. Crowley was still holding his hand, there was nothing but pure fear in his eyes, and a wonder if he had done something to hurt Aziraphale.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to offend you or move things too fast.”

_BONG_

“You’ve done nothing wrong! Please believe me when I say you’ve done nothing wrong. I meant it when I said you’ve made me endlessly happy tonight.”

_BONG_

“The please tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help!”

“I-I’m sorry. I…”

He looked across the room where Gabriel and Sandalphon were standing, chatting with each other. Five chimes had already gone by, he had roughly a minute to get out of the ballroom before the disguise wore away and Gabriel recognized him.

He looked back at Crowley, pained by the sorrow and confusion in his eyes. The tightness in his chest returned. Oh it was unbearable! Finally, he turned back towards Crowley, pressing their lips together once again. It was only for a few seconds, cut off by yet another sharp _BONG_. No sooner had the deep timbre faded did Aziraphale pull away.

“I love you.”

And he ran.

Like a fool he ran. He yanked his hand out of Crowley’s and ran as fast as his legs would carry him.

_BONG_

Out of the ballroom and into the hallway.

_BONG_

Down the grand staircase.

_BONG_

Into the foyer and out onto the front steps.

_BONG_

Past the Sergeant and down the long marble steps and out toward the waiting carriage.

What was he doing?! He’d just run away from Crowley. _His_ Crowley! He’d spent the most wonderful evening with the most wonderful man and how did he repay him? By running away like an absolute coward!

Perhaps he could run back, perhaps it wasn’t too late. If only he-

_BONG_

_FLASH_

In a blink the shimmering silk suit was gone, replaced once again with the tattered remains of his breeches and shirt. The glamour had been stripped away. If he went back in now Gabriel would see him and then there would be hell to pay. Besides, he was a wretched sight now. He couldn’t go back in looking like this, he’d be a laughingstock, mortifying himself, his family, and especially Crowley.

“Aziraphale wait!”

He couldn’t do that to him. Crowley was too good for that, too good for him.

The golden carriage and angelic coachman had disappeared, leaving only Eve with a very confused expression (well confused for a horse). He climbed up onto her back and nudged her gently, setting her off into a trot.

“I’m sorry old girl, but you’ll need to go faster than that.” He gave her another nudge and she forced out a very annoyed whinny, but obliged and broke out into a gallop.

The horrid pain in Aziraphale’s heart refused to go away. He’d just left Crowley standing there, pleading with him not to run away. And he’d done just that. He'd pushed away the most wonderful man he’d ever met. And Crowley was about to propose! Crowley wanted Aziraphale to marry him and he repays him by running away. What was _wrong_ with him?!

No this was for the best. Crowley was a prince after all. He was a representative of the people and of the country, he deserved a spouse that was every bit as regal and refined as he was, not some dirty, lowlife, good-for-nothing nobody like him. Aziraphale bit his lip as the thought passed through his mind. He knew it was true, both he and Crowley were living in a fantasy. They couldn’t be married, they couldn’t be happy together. Even if Gabriel allowed it, the king would no doubt have something to say about it. Princes don’t marry commoners.

Something else occurred to Aziraphale. This was the last weekend of May. In seven days it would be summer. In seven days, Gabriel would be leaving for his expedition and in seven days, Uriel, Michelle, and Aziraphale would be traveling to Sandalphon’s estate, and Aziraphale would be traveling to Sandalphon’s bed.

A broken sob escaped from Aziraphale as the trees slipped past him, and the tears didn’t cease even as he rode through the town, past houses that were darkened and abandoned, everyone else was either at the ball or asleep. He rode through like a ghost, solemn and gloomy through the dark town, doing his best to keep his voice down but he couldn’t hold back the sobs.

That would be the last time he likely saw Crowley. Even after he and his stepsisters returned from summer holiday (a holiday in hell more like), there was no way Crowley would ever want to see him again, not after he’d so rudely left him behind.

Even if that weren't the case, even if by some miracle Crowley wasn't angry with him, there was no way in hell that he would want him after a summer spent as Sandalphon's bedmate. Not after he'd been used and devoured until there was nothing left but a ghost. Another sob came from Aziraphale, this one louder than the others, he was unable to hold it back. A glimpse of his future passed through his mind and he saw himself pale and shivering in Sandalphon's bed, nothing but a plaything for Sandalphon to enjoy until he grew tired and tossed Aziraphale away. Used and disgusting.

Eve stayed in her gallop, but Azirpahale's mind was no longer on keeping the old girl steady, he was lucky that she was such a reliable horse and didn't need his direction or else he would have gotten them hopelessly lost. As much as he tried to hold them back, the loud sobs escaped from him, floating behind him on the evening breeze. If anyone saw him ride past, they likely would have thought he was a wailing banshee or unrestful spirit. Even when Eve had made it back to the estate, Aziraphale continued to cry, leaning into the horse's soft, curly mane. 

Somehow, after about fifteen minutes of hollow sobs, Aziraphale was able to calm himself and he slipped out of the saddle before he led Eve back into the stable, making sure to slip a few carrots and an apple into her trough for all he’d put her through that night.

He was utterly numb as he swept the remnants of the torn suit into a pile and carried them from the front hall into his room. Perhaps if he could get his hands on some thread, he could fix it…no that was silly. It was damaged beyond hope of repair. Just another silly dream. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of the gift Adam had made for him, even if it was in tatters now. He took the remnants and tucked them under his pillow, hoping that maybe they’d turn into vapors and drift into his mind, so he could at least dream about something lovely, just to pretend for a little while longer.

He sighed as he changed out of the torn shirt and dirt streaked pants into his nightclothes and collapsed onto his little bed, utterly worn out.

At least he’d told Crowley he loved him. At least Crowley knew. Even if he didn’t feel it back, even if Aziraphale was just a passing fancy, or if Crowley was just a dream, he’d said it. He’d said those three words and nobody could take them back from him.

Around three in the morning, Aziraphale heard his stepfamily return, though they mercifully didn’t call for him. The only sounds he heard were them coming into the house, a few mumbles he couldn’t make out, then four pairs of feet slowly making their way up the stairs into their respective bedrooms. Thank goodness. He couldn’t handle anything else after the emotional torrent he’d just experienced.

He couldn’t sleep at all. His body was exhausted but his mind was still reeling. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw were the beautiful colors of the ballroom, the soft golden candlelight and white marble, but all of it was tainted by the saddened look on Crowley’s face, the downward turn of his lips and the shout that came from them as Aziraphale ran away. No matter how Aziraphale tossed and turned, he couldn’t manage to shake the image from his mind. It was everything he could do not to burst into tears again.

Something rumbled upstairs. No, it wasn’t a rumble per se, it was simply a pound or a patter. The sound of footsteps coming down the hall.

This wasn’t too surprising. Sometimes Uriel suffered from insomnia and would ask Aziraphale to make her some tea so she could sleep. He figured that this was the case until the footsteps reached the stairs. He froze. Those weren’t Uriel’s steps, they were much heavier and they were moving far too fast.

Aziraphale stayed curled up in his bed, trembling like a mouse and hoping that his assumption was wrong, but he couldn’t deny the footsteps coming to his door. He squeezed his eyes shut as the creek of the wood sounded throughout the room.

 ***** “Wake up, boy.” Sandalphon barked, grabbing Aziraphale by the shoulder. Aziraphale was roughly turned onto his back and looked up at Sandalphon peering down at him. He wasn’t smiling, but there was that same look of want in his eyes. 

“M-Mr. Sandalphon?” Aziraphale stammered. “What are-”

“You know it was a shame you couldn’t attend the ball.” Sandalphon said. “It truly was a grand occasion. It’s a pity that you didn’t see the prince either. Nobody really saw much of him. Well of course he was there, but he was preoccupied for a good portion of the evening. He had a young man on his arm. Pretty little thing, but nobody really knew who he was.” Aziraphale gulped. “That is until he left around midnight and the prince called out the young man’s name.” Sandalphon grabbed hold of Aziraphale’s wrists. "I don’t know how you managed to get to the ball or how you managed to disguise yourself, but it was quite the trick.” His left hand let go of Aziraphale’s wrist and grabbed a fistful of Aziraphale’s night shirt. “So that was you all along? That was you in the prince’s arms? That red-haired scoundrel my brother spoke of was actually the prince?"

Aziraphale was silent, trembling on his back. Sandalphon tightened his grip on Azirpahale's wrist, causing a little yelp of pain to come from the blonde.

"Answer me, boy!"

"Yes!" Azirpahale sobbed. "Yes that was him!"

"You have no idea what that did to me. Seeing him with his hands all over you.” Sandalphon gave a mighty yank, tearing Aziraphale’s shirt and exposing his chest. Everything in Aziraphale told him to run, to scream, to fight back, to do something, but he was frozen stiff in his place. “I’ve tried to be patient, but then you had to go and throw yourself at the prince, show yourself off like you're worth a damn. You don’t know what jealousy like that does to a man, Aziraphale. I thought I was reasonable with you, but it seems you just won't learn your lesson.”

Sandalphon pressed his forearm against Aziraphale’s collarbone, keeping him pinned to the bed as he climbed on top of him, shoving his lips against Aziraphale’s. His weight was pushed against the blonde, crushing him and keeping him still. Sandalphon broke the kiss and began sucking along Aziraphale’s neck, continuing to tear at his nightshirt and paw at the hem of his pants.

There were no thoughts in Aziraphale’s mind aside from the whirling fear and utter helplessness. A fast breath escaped from Aziraphale and with that breath, a tiny, silent call. “Help…”

The presence and atmosphere in the room changed. Something strong was in the room with them. Something powerful. Something angry. *****

Suddenly, Sandalphon was tossed off of Aziraphale and thrown into the wall. Before Aziraphale could register what was happening, Sandalphon yelped.

“G-Grace?”

Shimmering in front of them, with an angry expression on her face, was Aziraphale’s mother. Her eyes were completely white with rage and she was looking at Sandalphon with murderous intent, something Aziraphale had never seen in his mother.

His mother threw her arm in front of her and arched her fingers in Sandalphon’s direction and he let out a cry of pain, clasping his hands to his chest. Sandalphon's entire body began to writhe and the utter agony was reflected on his face. It only lasted a few seconds before Aziraphale's mother snapped her fingers and the shouts stopped, though the fear and pain were reflected in Sandalphon's eyes.

“If you ever lay a finger on my son like that again, if you ever force yourself onto _anyone_ again, you will feel that pain, and feel it tenfold until you die! Do you hear me, Sandalphon Erzengel?! _Never_ touch him _again_!” Sandalphon looked up at Aziraphale’s mother, trembling, nodding his head at a feverish pace. “Out of my sight, you disgusting creature.” His mother said, her voice as cold as ice and as angry as a rampaging bear.

Sandalphon scrambled to his feet and bolted from the room. With a flick of her wrist, the door slammed shut. Then she turned to look at Aziraphale, the anger on her face retreating, leaving worry and sadness behind in its stead.

“Oh, Aziraphale.” She cried, throwing her arms around her son. Aziraphale clung to her, sobbing. She tightened her embrace around him, gently kissing the top of his head and rubbing gentle circles into his back. “My darling child, I’m so so sorry.”

She held him for a long while, gently caressing his face and hair as he cried.

"Mother I...I was so scared!" He sobbed. "I just couldn't stop him! I wanted to, I tried but I..." his voice became lost in another wave of fearful sobs.

"I know, my son. I know." She soothed. "It isn't your fault." She lifted a hand and brushed away the tears, holding him tight until the sobs died down, though Aziraphale couldn’t stop trembling. “This has gone on for too long.” His mother said. “I’ve let this go on for too long.” She looked down at her son, a pain in her eyes. “I’ll fix this. Mark my words. I’ll find a way to fix this.” Aziraphale continued to tremble, glancing at the door, still terrified from his ordeal. She couldn’t leave him in such a state.

“Sleep now.” She said gently. “Sleep and feel no pain.” Tenderly, she laid a kiss in the center of his forehead. His eyes drifted closed and he slumped against her. She laid him back down onto the bed and lifted the thin blanket over him, brushing a few of his blonde curls back. A peaceful smile drifted across his lips as she disappeared from the room.

Aziraphale woke the next morning in a daze. He’d just awoken from a wonderful dream where he and Crowley were back under the willow tree snuggling close together. But as he blinked the last few remnants of the dream away, the events of the previous night washed over him again. His mind was still reeling as his fingers traced over his pinky. Wait. The familiar brass wings weren’t there. He looked down at his hand and went pale.

His mother’s ring was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all. I won't lie. I'm a mess right now. I'm currently failing my psych class and I thought I'd be able to handle myself and get back on top of the work load that I have, but today when I sat down to work, I just kinda broke. I somehow was able to do some work but I haven't even gotten halfway on my to do list and I'm just really stressed. I'm just lucky that I write these chapter ahead of time so I can just copy and paste them to the website and upload that. And I'm lucky I have you guys. Your comments never fail to make me smile and make me feel like I'm worth a damn.  
> Anyway, I hope you all are doing well and enjoyed that chapter. Poor Aziraphale, I put him through way too much.  
> Kudos and comments are very appreciated. Thank you all for reading and have a lovely day.


	16. Chapter 16

Four hours earlier

Aziraphale’s hand slipped out of Crowley’s, leaving the prince holding nothing but a white glove. Crowley watched as Aziraphale bolted through the room and disappeared through the ballroom door out into the hallway.

His mind was still in a daze from the kiss and the confession, but the loud clang from the midnight bell broke him out of his trance. Aziraphale had said he loved him and he just stood there like a fool. He should go after him! Tell him he loves him right back and hold him tight and never let him go.

Crowley broke through the crowd, pushing his way past chittering people. Courtesy and image be damned, something was wrong and Crowley had to do something. He’d get an earful from his father later, but that didn’t matter.

The hallway was empty, as was the foyer. How could he have gotten away so quickly?

“Aziraphale wait!” Crowley called.

The sound of hooves drew his attention and he bolted outside as Aziraphale, the silk suit and white mask were gone and he was clothed in tatters, climbed onto a dark brown horse with a curled mane. Aziraphale nudged the horse twice in the side and it broke off into a gallop. The blonde didn’t even look back as he rode through the front gate and disappeared from sight.

“It’s nae possible…” a voice to his left muttered.

“What isn’t possible?” Crowley asked, looking towards a gobsmacked Sergeant Shadwell.

“The carriage, the horses, to coachman, all of gone with a flash of light! Just poof and it was gone.”

The glove in Crowley’s hand had also disappeared, but his palm wasn’t empty. He uncurled his fingers and revealed a small brass ring, engraved with the wings of an angel. Aziraphale’s mother’s wedding ring.

The prince looked back at the Sergeant. “Why don’t you take a break? You’ve been on duty for almost five hours, let someone else guard.”

“Aye, perhaps a quick rest and a cuppa might clear mah head.” The Sergeant disappeared back into the castle as Crowley stayed out, watching the gate. He didn’t know what he was watching for, perhaps hoping Aziraphale might come back, maybe he could apologize for offending him. He knew he was going too fast. What was he thinking? Trying to ask so quickly.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little box. He’d been so happy when his father had given his blessing to ask. Princes didn’t marry commoners, but Crowley wasn’t the crowned heir. Beelzebub was. Usually, Crowley would be married off to some other prince or princess for the sake of an alliance, but after both he and Bee petitioned to their father, he’d finally agreed to allow Crowley to choose who he could marry. At first their father wasn’t too keen on him marrying a commoner, but after hearing Aziraphale was the stepson of Gabriel Erzengel, one of the men on the village council, right ear to the royal advisor (or something, Crowley didn’t really get involved in politics unless he really had to), so Aziraphale was high enough on the totem pole to be considered marriageable to a prince.

That was the whole reason they’d had this ridiculous ball. For Crowley to ask Aziraphale to marry him. He'd proposed the idea to his father because he knew the king was quite fond of flashy events. So if Crowley could get Aziraphale alone for just a moment and ask, that's all it would take for him to be safe from that horrible family of his.

Crowley sighed as he opened the little box, looking in at the silver ring inside. It was engraved with small looping vines and in the center was a similar pair of angel wings to the one on the brass ring in his hand. It was sleek and beautiful, but also true and humble, not needing any jewels or frivolity… just like Aziraphale. Crowley slipped the brass ring in with the silver one and put the box back in his pocket as the new guard came out to stand duty. He gave Crowley a quick bow before standing at attention in front of the door and Crowley went back inside.

Maybe Aziraphale was mad at him because he’d kept such a huge secret from him. After all, finding out the person you’d been seeing for nearly four and a half months was the prince, that must have been rather jarring. No, if that were the case, he would have pushed him away right off. But he’d called him “Your highness” without batting an eye and he'd said outright that he didn't mind…well maybe he’d been intimidated by the impending marriage proposal. After all, he didn’t know that Crowley’s father approved, so he would think that a marriage between them would be a losing uphill battle. Or maybe Crowley was just a passing fancy to him and he didn’t want to get married. But…but he said he loved him.

The music from the ballroom was still sweet and floaty, but it had turned sour to Crowley. Maybe he could find Bee, they were always good to go to when he was in a bad mood. Not to cheer him up or anything, but usually he could spend at least an evening with them wallowing in bitterness. They were good at stuff like that.

“Your highness.” A voice sounded from someone who was clearly trying to suck up and get in his good graces. Dammit, he did not want to deal with this.

He turned to face the voice and had to keep himself from grimacing.

“I’m so sorry to bother you,” Gabriel chirped, though it was clear he wasn’t, “but you’ve been so occupied all evening and I wanted-”

“Listen, I’m not in the best of moods at the moment and I would appreciate it if you left me be.”

Gabriel curled his lip. “That’s not very polite, shouldn’t a prince have his ear close to his subjects?” The audacity of this man. “Perhaps a dance with one of my daughters will lighten your mood, they’re both highly intelligent and quite charming.”

“Thank you, but no. I’m looking for my sibling”

“Your highness, I insist. They’ve been looking forward to a dance with you all evening and-”

“Well I’m sorry to disappoint but they are not entitled to me or my time simply because I’m royal.”

Gabriel looked like he wanted to snap at Crowley or put him in his place, but he was keeping his face pleasant with an almost saccharine grin on his face. There was something else in his eyes. Fear. Why on earth was Gabriel afraid of him? Sure he was the prince, he had plenty of authority over Gabriel, and if his father so desired, he could strip Gabriel of everything, including his wealth, but it didn’t seem to be the usual fear that people tend to have around him. There was no quivering air of “please don’t punish me”, but there was fear nonetheless. Without his title or authority, Gabriel would certainly be the one with the advantage. He had at least twenty years on Crowley, was maybe a foot taller than him, and was certainly physically stronger than Crowley, who could generously be called a twig. Yet he was still afraid.

“Well, still, your highness, perhaps I could have your ear for a few moments about-”

“You’ve had it for too long already.”

“Your highness,” Gabriel said, now there was a darkness in his eyes, “I’ll have you know that while my daughters are more than eligible and I’d be happy to offer you either one of their hands in marriage, my stepson” he muttered the word like it was a curse, “is not available to wed.”

“He’s already engaged?” Crowley asked, puzzled.

“No, he’s eligible, but I’m not offering him to anyone. And if anyone asks for my blessing, I will not give it.” He narrowed his eyes. “Not even to a prince.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Crowley was about to walk away when he heard Gabriel chuckling. He glanced back over his shoulder. "What may I ask is so funny?" He snapped.

"You haven't been brushing up on the laws, have you, young man?" Gabriel smirked. If Crowley wanted to kill Gabriel before, he wanted to kill him and launch his body into the ocean without a proper burial now.

"You dare-"

"Aziraphale is still my ward. He is still living on my property and under my rule, and he will continue to do so until the age of thirty. And of course we all know thirty is far too old to be considered eligible for marriage."

Crowley despised that law. Why did someone need to rush marriage if they didn't want to? Yes the time for conceiving children was best when one was young and healthy but marriage wasn't just about children.

"The law also says he's your ward until he is able to make enough income to own his own property or when he gets married. I know you're cruel enough to work him to the bone in his own house, so he won't be able to find any kind of income. But if you think anything in this world will stop me from asking him to marry me-"

"I can." Gabriel said. "There's one part you missed." Crowley raised an eyebrow. "Aziraphale is more than able to get married...as long as he has his guardian's consent." Crowley felt his blood go cold. No. No that couldn't be right. He had to be lying.

He looked Gabriel dead in the face. Something the prince prided himself on was that he was very good at reading people, even people who were as complicated and well hidden as Gabriel. He was able to tell when someone was lying. And Gabriel was being as truthful as a sage.

Crowley wanted more than anything to throttle Gabriel or to come up with some kind of clever retort or do something than just stand there seething.

Gabriel glanced a ways behind Crowley.

"You must excuse me Prince Anthony, but my brother is calling me." He brushed past Crowley, clapping him on the back as he passed, as if they were old friends.

The absolute nerve of that man. To treat someone as sweet and kind as Aziraphale like dirt and then to try and talk down to a prince simply because he didn’t want to lose his servant? Because he wanted someone to lord his power over? People like that made Crowley sick.

He was ruthless, everything Aziraphale had warned him he would be, but there was still that tiny glimmer of fear in his eyes. Why was he afraid? It just didn't make sense. For most of their conversation, he was as confident as ever. But in that one moment, he could see it. Gabriel may have tried to keep it hidden, but Crowley saw that glint of fear in him. But he just couldn't figure out why. It all made him want to scream in frustration.

As he made his way through the ballroom, more people came up to him, to try and introduce their son or daughter to him or to ask him for a dance or for some other kind of favor. He tried to be polite when declining or dismissing them for the sake of his father, but his temper had run out.

This was one of his least favorite things about being royal. If people weren’t afraid of him or treating him as something inhuman, they expected something from him, feeling that they were entitled to his time, or his favor, or whatever. That’s why he enjoyed going out in disguise so much. Few people saw past the crown that they actually saw the person.

Aziraphale was one of those few.

Even after he knew that Crowley was actually “Prince Anthony”, he still saw him as just Crowley. At first he had second thoughts about telling Aziraphale his Crowley. It was his middle name and it had been his mother’s idea. Anthony was the name of his great-great-grandfather on his father’s side while Crowley had been a powerful being in the religious culture of the region where his mother grew up. Apparently he was a being of assertion and intelligence but also of kindness and compassion. She wanted him to be like that. And he’d let her down. The closest thing he was to assertive was just being an ass, and intelligent was out of the question. Half the time, he couldn’t even find his own shoes. As for kindness and compassion? That just wasn’t happening.

But Aziraphale saw all those things in him. When he was with Aziraphale, he felt like he was worth a damn, even without the crown. That’s why he was glad he’d told him to call him Crowley.

He wasn’t a prince. Just a person.

Everyone else in this ballroom saw him just as a prince. Either someone to cow-tow before and fear or someone to use to advance.

Suddenly he wanted to tell his father to call it off and tell everyone to leave. But he just had to keep the plastered smile on.

“Remember,” his father had said to him earlier that evening, “this ball is meant to be a show of your poise and regality. Even though you aren’t the one on the throne, you are still a representative of this family and are expected to show diplomacy. Act like it.”

He sighed as he looked up towards the empty throne at the head of the ballroom and sighed before slipping out one of the side doors and into the abandoned hallway.

He couldn’t leave Aziraphale with Gabriel. He had to do something.

* * * * *

“I gave you my blessing to ask for Aziraphale’s hand, but if his stepfather refuses, then there’s nothing I can do.” His father said, not looking up from his desk. The ball had ended two hours ago. His father hadn’t attended, he had too much work to do, but he’d luckily consented to listening to his son’s request.

“You don’t know they way they treat him, Father.” Anthony pleaded. “I’ve seen the bruises and welts, I know the pain he’s in. You’re the king! Can’t you overrule Gabriel? Say ‘I’m the king and whatever I say goes and I say Aziraphale can marry my son’ or something?”

“The law states that from the ages of sixteen to thirty, a guardian is allowed to either give a blessing or reject the match. Not even a king is above the law.” He could tell from his father’s voice that he was both pained by the situation but also resolved to it. And he was getting rather annoyed with Crowley’s insistence.

“There has to be something we can do.” He thought for a moment. "The law wouldn't apply if Aziraphale's guardian was behind bars. We can have Gabriel arrested!"

“I won’t hear another word of it, Anthony.” His father said sternly.

“But you don’t know how they treat him. Perhaps we could enforce a law against abuse-“

“Anthony, what people do in their own homes and how they discipline their children is none of our business.”

“None of our…Of course it’s our business! The safety of our subjects is most definitely our business. And there’s a large difference between discipline and abuse.” Crowley was almost growling at this point.

“That may be, but Gabriel Erzengel is a very well-to-do citizen. His trade circuits have been keeping our economy afloat and our treasury stocked for years now. Not to mention he is one of the representatives of the people. If we arrested him for no reason, people would riot.”

“It’s not ‘no reason’, Father. It’s abuse. Flat out abuse.” Crowley said. He was stiff as a board, as was respectful to be in the presence of the king, but he was restless. When his mind was on a roll, he tended to pace, but he was forced to stay still. It still didn't stop a frustrating twitch from rolling up and down his leg.

“It’s Aziraphale’s word against Gabriel’s.” His father said as he stood from his desk, his sleek black suit and hair shimmering in the glow of the firelight. “Even if you were to take this issue before the royal assembly, they’d likely side with Gabriel.”

“So you’re not even going to try?”

“As I’ve said, if I tried to arrest Gabriel on an account of hearsay as weak as this one, the people would riot. He’s a respectable citizen. I will not do it. That is my final word.” He began to sit back down when Crowley spoke again.

“So you care more about protecting your own image and stocking the treasury than the safety of one of your subjects? Of the person I love?”

“YOU DARE SPEAK BACK TO YOUR KING?!” His father roared.

Crowley went silent, cringing and looking at the floor.

“You haven’t seen him cry, Father.” He murmured.

“What was that?” His father snapped.

“I said you haven’t seen him cry. Aziraphale. When he showed me the bruises on his arm and told me of all the horrible things his family did, all I felt was rage. But when he began to cry, it broke me. It broke everything in me. It was like the sun itself had gone dark, like there was no such thing as joy in the world. And I felt so helpless. I promised myself that I’d make sure he’d never cry like that again, that I’d make sure he’d smile for the rest of his life. I’m not going to break that promise.”

His father was silent for a very long time, his face stoic and his eyes stern. He was pondering everything Crowley had just said, turning over every word in his mind like rare pieces of jewelry, inspecting for their worth and value. Finally, he looked up and locked eyes with his son.

“You’re dismissed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey...hey guys...guess what day it is. It's October 21st, according to God, the day the earth was created, around 9:15 in the morning. So naturally I'm sitting here dressed in my tartan bowtie, blue button down shirt, and waistcoat uploading Good Omens fan fiction ( I also just finished writing a one off that I'm gonna post later). So happy ineffable day (my friend Katherine pointed this out to me and officially declared today Good Omens day. Katherine if you're reading, hello darling!)
> 
> Also, for those of you who read my author's note for the last chapter and left a comment showing me your love and support. Thank you, really. I can not express my gratitude enough that you would be willing to show support to someone you've never even seen in person and go out of your way to make me feel better and appreciated in my time of emotional need. You all are the sweetest and most wonderful readers anyone could ask for _hugs all around_ I still have a lot of work that I need to do but I'm a lot less stressed than I was last week and I feel like I can manage it. And my confidence and boost in esteem and productivity is a great deal in thanks to you. <3 <3 <3
> 
> So I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, Crowley's on the hunt, but will he find what he needs? I'm not telling, you'll just have to wait until next week. Also writing King Lucious has been a very difficult but very fun task. He is based off the devil himself, so you would expect him to be a bit of a bastard but I had a really fun time giving him a different dimension of morality. He wants to help his son but feel his hands are tied. And being in a position of power means you have to make sacrifices you may not want to. Still doesn't stop him from being a right bastard.
> 
> Kudos and comments always make my week. Thank you all so much for reading and have a very lovely day.
> 
> And I mean this from the bottom of my heart when I say thank you.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Physical and Emotional abuse, mentions of sexual assault/attempted rape

There was something brewing, Aziraphale could feel the tension all throughout the house. Gabriel was giving him nasty look after nasty look, but was staying eerily quiet. That meant that he had something truly awful planned. And _that_ meant that Aziraphale had made an enormous mistake. If he’d done something small, Gabriel would usually punish him right away, unless it was a spur of the moment punishment like the beating he gave Aziraphale before the ball. But Aziraphale could tell that he was planning something.

Sandalphon was staying quiet as well, but it only took one look at him to know that something had happened. There was a very large bruise on the back of his bald head. He was no longer looking at Aziraphale with looks of want or lust, but he had taken on a similar grimace and scowl that his brother would usually sport when looking at him. That couldn’t have been good.

It was nearing eleven o'clock and Aziraphale just couldn't stop shivering. He almost cut himself twice while preparing lunch and he just couldn't shake the eerie feeling.

"Aziraphale?" A voice called. He flinched and turned to see Uriel and Michelle standing in front of him. Another jolt of nerves passed through him, expecting a beating, but there was no anger on either of their faces. There was...sorrow. Regret.

"Y-yes, Miss Uriel? Miss Michelle?"

"Are you doing alright?" Uriel asked. This was a trick. It had to be a trick. They'd never bother themselves with asking him how he was doing. There was no way...there was a gleam in Michelle's eyes he had never seen before. It wasn't like the usual glimmer she had when she took advantage of his naive and gullible nature. It was...was she about to cry?

Aziraphale sighed. "Yes, miss. I'm doing alright."

"Aziraphale, you don't have to lie to us. We know you're not doing well." Michelle said, as gently as she could, though years of speaking with a snide and sarcastic tone made sincerity a bit hard for her. Aziraphale flinched again.

"I-I'm sorry miss. Please forgive me for lying..." the blonde trailed.

Uriel shot her sister a look. "What we mean is, well, we know father went too far last night. He's never threatened to kill anyone before and the cane..." the younger woman shivered, cringing slightly. 

"Uriel and I did a bit of thinking after the ball." Michelle said, glancing at her sister. "We stayed up talking it over." She paused for a breath. "We may not like you exactly, and we may not always see eye to eye, but that shouldn't excuse how you've been treated." The fear in Aziraphale turned to disbelief. They really weren't...were they? "What father did last night...it frightened us. And we both felt rather sick after seeing it. We...we wanted to say we were sorry for everything we've done to you."

He'd gone mad. That was the only explanation. He'd gone mad. Or he was dreaming. Yes that was it, he was still dreaming.

Without a second thought, he brought his left hand to his wrist and pinched as hard as he could. "Yowch!" He yelped. Uriel and Michelle stared at him, confused but still sincere. This wasn't a dream.

He bit his lip, still hesitant to believe them. "You...you must think I'm quite daft, don't you?" Uriel lowered her eyes.

"Well, you're not exactly the smartest-" Uriel cut Michelle off with a quick jab from her elbow. Michelle sighed. "We really do mean it." She corrected. "We don't blame you for not believing us, and it doesn't make up for how we've treated you in any way shape or form but...well we hoped it could be a start."

Aziraphale looked between them, unsure really of what to say. "What...what brought this on?"

"When we were at the ball, we saw the prince dancing with a young man." Uriel explained. Aziraphale froze. They knew. Oh no they knew and they were going to be angry with him for "stealing" the prince. "He looked happy. Well they both did. We were both still reeling from what father said, what he did, and seeing someone be so kind to someone who's supposed to be below his status, it was almost like a wake up call."

"And, this may sound crazy, but, we felt like Stepmother was in the room with us." Michelle continued. Aziraphale's eyes widened. "We remembered how kind she was to us, even though we weren't her daughters and, we wondered if she could see us, just how disappointed she'd be in us."

Aziraphale thought for a good long while, looking between his stepsisters. They were sincere. Good Lord they were actually being sincere. He didn't know what to think. Finally, after a moment, he took a breath and said, "I...I don't know if I can forgive you." A shameful but understanding look came to his stepsisters eyes. "You've done such horrible things to me. But, well, holding a grudge can be exhausting. I don't think I can forgive you, but I do really and truly appreciate you trying to be better people. I hope...I want us to move forward. Do you think that's possible?"

A sad smile came to Michelle's face. "You always were too kind to us, Aziraphale." she said.

"Is that a yes then?" A timid smile came to Aziraphale's face as well. His stepsisters nodded. There seemed to be a clearing in the room. A tension that had been held for years was beginning to ease. 

Then it ended.

"Michelle, Uriel, what are you two doing in here?" The girls turned around to see their father standing in the doorway.

"We were just talking to Aziraphale." Michelle said, sounding nervous.

"Don't bother yourselves with him." Gabrielle snapped. He gathered himself and put on a false smile. "Why don't you two go into town this afternoon?"

"No thank you father." Uriel said, steeling herself. 

"Do as I say girls." Gabriel's voice was beginning to grow intense. Michelle began to leave but Uriel grabbed a hold of her sister's arm, keeping them both in place. Finally, "Both of you, out of this house, _now_! I don't want you back until twilight!" Gabriel barked.

The girls glanced at Aziraphale, giving him a mournful look before leaving the kitchen.

Gabriel watched as they went before turning back to Aziraphale. "Finish lunch. And no mistakes."

Once the girls were out the door, the tension in the house rose to an even higher level. As Aziraphale finished making lunch, he felt a nervous sting in the pit of his stomach and none of his efforts to ignore it worked. He couldn’t stop trembling as he served his stepfather and step uncle, and they didn’t say a single word to him or each other. The whole meal was marred with an unsettling silence, the only sound to be heard was the large grandfather clock ticking in the hall. Each tick sent another nervous jolt through Aziraphale’s body as he could only assume what his stepfather had in mind for him.

As the meal ended, twelve sharp chimes sounded from down the hall and it was all Aziraphale could do not to flinch and drop the dishes. He didn’t need to give Gabriel another reason to be angry with him.

He let out a breath as he set the dishes in the sink and walked out to the well. He was probably overreacting and jumping to conclusions. Gabriel was probably just having a bad day. He…he didn’t have anything horrid planned for Aziraphale. Surely he didn’t. After all he’d done nothing wrong. Gabriel didn’t know that he attended the ball.

Another thought entered his mind as he carried the water inside. Gabriel didn’t know…but Sandalphon did. And he definitely would have told Gabriel.

A shiver passed through Aziraphale’s body as he dumped the water into the sink and grabbed a dishrag.

No. No, that had nothing to do with it. Attending a ball wasn’t a crime. Gabriel would be angry, no doubt, but he wouldn’t do anything rash. As long Aziraphale kept his head down today and did as he was told and stayed quiet, everything would be-

“Aziraphale.” A stern voice interrupted his thoughts. Despite his effort, a flinch still wracked over his body.

“Y-yessir?” He stammered, turning to face his stepfather. He was carrying his cane.

“Come out to the garden.” He narrowed his eyes. “Now.”

Aziraphale dropped the dishrag and walked over to the back door leading out into the garden, his legs shaking the entire way.

It was a warm afternoon, but there were storm clouds rolling in from the west, darkening the overcast sky. Sandalphon was standing under one of the trees, looking angry enough to rip it from its roots. Gabriel gave him a slight push forward before walking in front of him to stand next to his brother.

“On your knees.” He growled, taking his cane in hand.

Aziraphale gulped, but complied, lowering himself to the ground, his legs shaking the entire time.

“Aziraphale,” Gabriel said, “where were you last night?”

Aziraphale’s entire body went cold. He knew. He’d figured it out.

“L-last night?” Aziraphale stammered. “I was here. I finished cleaning the torn suit from the front hallway and went to bed.”

There was a crack and a sharp pain erupted in Aziraphale’s head.

“You dare insult me with your lies!” Gabriel roared. “I’ll ask again.” He tapped the cane against the ground, a silent warning to be truthful. “Where were you last night?”

“At the ball.” Aziraphale confessed, his voice escaping him in a panicked cry.

“Even when I forbade you from going?” Aziraphale nodded, the movement flaring the pain in his head. There was another sharp whack with the cane, this time on Aziraphale’s back. “So that was _you_ dancing with the prince?” Aziraphale nodded again. The cane was set under his chin, lifting his face to look at Gabriel and Sandalphon, who had removed his jacket and was rolling up his sleeves. “You should know by know, you foolish boy, that I don’t like to be disobeyed.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened and a little whimper escaped from him.

* * * * *

It had been three days since the ball and Crowley had found nothing. He’d spent countless hours at his desk, his eyes sore from scanning over piles of laws and decrees looking for a loophole. The one fortunate thing he’d found was that forcing oneself onto someone of any kind was illegal, and attempted sexual contact with a family member, adopted, step, or otherwise, was _very_ illegal, so they could at least arrest that monster that tried to force himself onto Aziraphale.

But there was nothing about physical or emotional abuse for family members, especially when it came to children or wards. There were several laws that protected against abuse from employers, spouses, strangers, but nothing to protect a child from their parent.

A misbehaving child could either be sent to sit in the corner or beaten with a switch. It was all up to the parents on how they chose to “discipline” their children. It was disgusting the things people could get away with and what the law allowed.

Petitioning to his father on this matter was essentially useless. While his father had made many reforms that benefited the country greatly, but he still primarily looked to benefit the noble class and not cause a stir. Too many monarchies had been toppled due to civic unrest.

And his father knew that better than anyone. Crowley’s grandfather had been a tyrant and his uncle, the next in line for the throne was just as ruthless and cold blooded as his grandfather. The people refused to have the crown passed from one tyrant to another so they staged a rebellion. What was more, his father was at the center of it. His grandfather had been forced to abdicate and his uncle forced to hand over the title of crowned prince and his father had taken the throne, in every sense of the phrase. But because of how easily he got the throne, he was constantly paranoid with the thought of how easy it would be to lose it again.

That’s why he needed allies. And Gabriel Erzengel, at least outwardly, seemed to be the perfect ally. Wealthy and noble, but still well known by the common working people. And for the most part, well liked, but he was also a very good actor, who had most everyone fooled.

Crowley could easily let it slip that Gabriel was abusing his stepson but while most people would turn on him, there would be others who agreed with his father. Besides, all that would do was decrease his popularity with the people, he couldn’t be arrested for being unpopular. And that might cause even more problems. His father would be associated with someone who abused his stepson and the people wouldn’t like that, even if he was within the law.

They could arrest him after his popularity decreased. He’d be in jail and there would be no riot. But there was no guarantee that his popularity would decrease enough. Besides, even if it did go down, he was still within the law.

And he would take it all out on Aziraphale.

That’s the whole reason why he was looking. He had to get him away from that horrible man. Especially before next Tuesday, the first of June. Gabriel would be leaving and sending Aziraphale out of town with that vile man. By then they’d be in the next kingdom, out of his father’s jurisdiction and far from protection.

He had to find something, anything, and he only had four days to do it. He was running out of time.

Then there was another matter that he needed to consider. Why had Aziraphale run away from him? And how had he managed that…whatever magic he’d used to create that disguise and the carriage and horses? It wasn’t imperative that Crowley know that, he was just curious. But he had to know if he’d done something to hurt or offend Aziraphale and he had to make it right, or at the very least let him know he was sorry.

The clock on his wall chimed, signaling that it was noon. Wait a moment. It was Sunday! Aziraphale was going to be at the town market. Crowley immediately changed into his peasant disguise and grabbed the little box from his bedside table, tucking it into his pocket. Making extra sure that nobody was watching, he dashed down the servant’s hallway and out into the stable. Mercury whinnied to him as he set the saddle on the horse’s back.

The trees blurred past him and his heart was hammering wildly, his mind swimming with possibilities of why Aziraphale ran away during the ball. But one thing stayed firm in his mind. He was going to make it right.

As soon as he reached the town, he leapt off Mercury and led him to the stable, tying the reins to one of the wooden posts in a haphazard knot before running to the fountain, stopping only to buy a rose from the flower vendor.

Still with his heart in his head, he made his way to the fountain, sitting on the rim. And he waited.

And waited.

"Oh, hello, dear." A light voice sounded. Crowley immediately hopped up, hoping it was Aziraphale, but when he turned, he was faced with Madame Tracy. As much as he liked the woman, his heart sank. 

"Hello." He greeted. 

"Why, so glum, luv?" She asked.

Crowley was about to answer before he thought for a moment and asked, "Have you seen Aziraphale? Has he been to your bakery yet today?"

"Can't say he has." Madame Tracy said. "His stepsisters did come by on Thursday to pick up some bread. They looked rather nervous, but didn't say anything about Aziraphale."

Crowley sighed, sitting back down on the rim of the fountain. "Damn." He muttered.

"Anything I can do to help, dearie?" She asked.

"Just keep an eye out for him, please." Crowley said. Tracy gave him a warm smile before heading back towards her bakery.

It was almost two and Crowley had yet to see Aziraphale. He was beginning to get worried but he did his best to remain calm. Maybe Aziraphale was just running late. He was a busy man after all, it wouldn't kill Crowley to wait a little longer.

“C’mon dog!” A youthful voice shouted, followed by a high pitched yip. Through the crowd, Crowley saw a boy, around ten or eleven, with curly light brown hair leading a little black and white dog through the square. Crowley recognized this boy as one of the kids who liked to listen to Aziraphale’s stories.

“Excuse me? Kid?” Crowley called, standing from the rim and walking a little further into the square. The boy stopped running and looked towards Crowley. “You know Aziraphale, right?”

“Yeah, I know him. You’re the one he’s in love with right?” The boy said. Crowley could feel himself going red. He knew he loved Aziraphale and he knew Aziraphale loved him, but no matter how many times he’d told himself, he was always slightly bashful whenever someone pointed it out, especially in such a blunt fashion. He looked down at the rose in his hand.

“Erm, yes. You could say that.”

“You’re gonna marry him right?”

“Ngk!” Well now there was hardly any hope of him forming words to answer that question.

“You don’t have to tell me if you’re embarrassed.”

“S’not that I’m embarrassed it’s just…well erm…I want to marry him. It’s just a matter of asking him.”

The boy smiled. “That’s good. He’s been lonely since his mum died. He deserves someone who makes him happy.”

A smile came over Crowley’s face as well. “What’s your name kid?”

“Adam Young.” The boy answered, holding out his hand.

“Anthony. But people call me Crowley.” He took the boys hand, shaking it warmly. “You’re Aziraphale’s friend right?” Adam nodded. “Have you seen him today? Has he been to town already?”

Adam looked at him, puzzled. “You haven’t seen him either?” That wasn’t a good sign. “That’s weird. He’s usually here by noon.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.” Crowley mumbled. “If you see him, tell him I’m looking for him.”

“Alright. And if you see him, tell him that my friends and I want to hear the rest of that story.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him that.” Crowley said, trying to smile.

“I’ve got to go, but I’ll keep a lookout for him.” Adam said before running back towards the little tailor shop.

Crowley sat back down on the rim of the fountain. It wasn’t like Aziraphale to miss a trip to town, he usually spent all week looking forward to it. Something was wrong.

He needed to get Aziraphale out of that house as soon as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to give the stepsisters a redemption arc, but there was already so much story in the way. Aziraphale in no way ever fully forgives them, but he does try to a little and they do try to be better towards him. Speaking of Aziraphale, he seems to be in quite the pickle. Crowley needs to hurry and find a way to rescue him!  
> I hope you all are doing well. Halloween is coming up, anyone have any fun plans? I'm dressing up as Aziraphale and watching Lucifer with my best friend.   
> I hope you guys enjoyed that chapter, kudos and comments are much appreciated if you do. Thank you so much for reading and have a lovely day.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Reference to abuse, slut shaming/derogatory language, and discussions of murder, sexual assault, and attempted rape
> 
> One author's note before we get into this. I want to dedicate this chapter to someone who's been reading since the beginning and has continuously supported me throughout this story journey. [ PrincexRaven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincexRaven/pseuds/PrincexRaven) has been a continued source of encouragement and support. They recently told me that they are going through a very very hard time themselves and I won't go into detail to respect their privacy, but I want them to know, if they are still here, that I am so grateful for their conversation, support, intelligence, and friendship. No matter what I at least want them to know that I'm thinking of them and praying for them.

A knock on Crowley’s door distracted him.

“Come in,” He deadpanned.

“You’re still up?” His sibling’s voice came from the doorway.

Crowley sighed. “I’ve got to figure something out.” He said, not even looking up from the laws in front of him.

A rustle came from behind him and a black sleeve came into his view with a pale hand planted on the desk.

“Have you looked at the law we passed last year? _Fair and Equal Authority_?” Bee asked.

Crowley shook his head. “That only protects workers under abusive employers. It doesn’t say anything about children or stepchildren.”

“Isn’t Aziraphale nineteen?”

“Twenty.”

“Well he’s technically an adult isn’t he?”

“I guess, but there’s still no law protecting him. Since he isn’t married or living on his own, he’s still technically considered Gabriel’s ward. Even if there was a law, Father doesn’t want to do anything to bring Gabriel to justice.”

Beelzebub lifted their hand from the desk and began pacing. “You could kidnap Aziraphale.” They suggested.

“Are you mad?” Crowley nearly shrieked, spinning around in his chair.

Beelzebub shrugged. “He wouldn’t object if it was _you_ kidnapping him.”

“But _Father_ certainly would. What kind of picture would that paint of us? ‘ _Prince kidnaps his groom’_ , they’d run me out of town on a rail!”

Bee walked back over to the desk, tracing their finger over the words that were beginning to fade from the parchment. Funny, so much power in those words and the writing itself wasn’t permanent, fading away with time.

“Y’know what I think?” Bee said. “I think you’re working yourself too hard and need to go to bed.”

“I have two days to figure something out. I can’t waste a second.”

“Your king commands you.” Bee said, with sarcasm in their voice.

Despite the desperation of the situation, Crowley found himself smiling, appreciating his sibling's attempt to cheer him. It was small but it was there. “You’re no king yet.”

“When I _am_ King, I’ll have you flogged.” They joked.

The smile stayed on Crowley’s face for a few moments before it faded. “I need to find something to get him out of that house.”

“You’re no use to him if you push yourself too hard.” They said as they set a hand on his arm. He looked up at them, an expression of worry hidden under their usually casual and indifferent exterior. “If you keep going like this, you’re going to break.” There was an unspoken “And I would know” after it.

Crowley sighed. “He’s had to deal with this for years. I won’t let him suffer anymore. Not while I can do something about it.”

Bee sighed, giving their brother a look of tired sympathy. “Alright. Night, Crowley.” They said.

“G’night.” He said, turning back to the papers sprawled in front of him.

He stayed hunched over his desk for another three hours, straining his eyes so much that the letters began to move around on the page and his head began to hurt. After far too long of trying to make heads or tails of anything while not even reading a single sentence, he gave up and decided to call it a night.

His mind still swam with ideas, struggling to come up with a half decent one as he changed into his nightclothes and crawled into bed, blowing out the candle on his bedside table, plunging the room into darkness.

Trying to sleep was a futile effort. All the frustrated voices in his mind just wouldn’t shut up and he was so angry. Angry at Gabriel and his brother for being such horrid creatures, angry at his father for being willing to do nothing and look the other way, even at the cost of the love of Crowley’s life, and he was angry at himself for being so bloody useless and not being able to find one loophole. That was all he needed, just one little detail that he’d missed, one small thread that he could pull and unravel everything. But he couldn’t.

Nothing he could think of would save Aziraphale.

He lay in bed staring at the ceiling for hours, exhaustion pinching at the corners of his eyes and spreading an ache through his head and neck but his thoughts were keeping sleep just beyond the edges of his reach.

Something changed. His room became brighter. Were his eyes playing tricks on him?

He sat up and looked around his room, which had started to take on a soft, light blue glow. There was some kind of entity in front of him that looked to be made of light. All around, there were smaller glows that looked like little stars. Some of them stayed where they were, suspended in the air like a map of the night sky, but some began to move, attracted to the glowing being, which was beginning to shift. It lengthened, growing to the size of a person and the glows surrounding it began to give it form. Long, golden hair, a kind face with an upturned nose and a pair of sweet, pink lips. Slender graceful arms, ending with a pair of small, delicate hands.

Slowly, the being of light shifted to become a glowing, angelic woman. Crowley was sure he’d never seen her in his life, but she still looked eerily familiar. The nose, the mouth, he’d seen these features before.

“Hello, Crowley.” The woman said, her voice gentle and kind but there was also a look of fear and there was an overflow of nerves in her voice. “It’s nice to finally meet you face to face.”

Crowley’s eyes widened with the realization. “You’re Aziraphale’s mother!” He gasped.

The woman chuckled warmly. “Please call me Grace.”

“Well…erm…pleased to meet you, Grace?” What in the world were you supposed to say to someone who was dead?

“I’ll cut right to the point. My son is in danger and I need your help to get him out of the hell he’s living in.”

“So you know about the abuse? And about Sandalphon?”

Grace grimaced. “I only learned of that when Aziraphale told you. I suppose that’s the reason I haven’t been able to rest soundly for eight years. When he would visit my grave in the years following my death, he would only leave flowers and tell me that he missed me, and would sit in silence. I never knew what Gabriel and Sandalphon were doing to him until he brought you to my grave and told you about it.” A sorrowful expression came over her face. “He was always like that. He’d rather be in pain than watch someone else suffer. I’m glad he’s so compassionate and considerate, but it shouldn’t be at the cost of his own happiness. It pains me so much that he’s treated so horribly. And it’s only grown worse in the last few days.” That would explain why Aziraphale wasn’t at the market on Sunday. “But I don’t just mean the abuse. I mean he is really in danger right now.”

“In danger? What do you mean? What have they done to him?”

“I don’t have time to explain. I can sense something is wrong and I have to do something about it. But I’ll need your help.”

Crowley huffed in frustration. “I wish I had something of use. There are no laws protecting children from abusive parents or stepparents, and I can’t ask Aziraphale to marry me unless he has his guardian’s blessing.” He glanced at Grace. “Erm…living guardian.” It occurred to him how rude that could be, but Grace took it in stride. The look on her face suggested she might have even laughed if the circumstances had been different. “I can bring the law down against Sandalphon, but there’s nothing I can do about Gabriel. And my father won’t do anything about it.” He huffed bitterly. “Gabriel is popular with the people and my father is too much of a coward to do something that might make the people angry. So the law is useless and my father is useless. There’s nothing I can do.”

The prince tightened his hands into fists. There were times he felt as though his title meant nothing. He’d tried time and time again to make changes for the better, but his father would always shoot those changes down, and there were only so many times he was willing to rope Bee in with his problems. It was so frustrating. He was the third most powerful person in the kingdom and his power meant practically nothing. It was like standing under a tree where the apples were just out of reach. Whenever he felt he was close enough to grab one, the branch shifted away from his fingers.

A soft hand patted his fist and when he looked back up towards Grace, there was a sympathetic expression on her face. “I appreciate how much you’re trying. You don’t know what it means to me to see someone care about my son and give him the love he deserves.” Crowley tried to smile at the sentiment, but the frustration and nerves in his chest made any kind of expression aside from a frustrated glower almost undoable. “But the abuse is only the beginning of Gabriel’s crimes”

“What do you mean?”

Grace thought for a moment before looking back at him. “Gabriel goes on frequent trips to our allied countries, correct?” Crowley nodded. “Don’t you find it interesting that he only claims to travel to visit our allies, which are only a few days travel by ship in either direction, yet his trade voyages take months at a time?”

“What do you mean?”

She said nothing, but elegantly walked over to his desk, where under the clutter of laws and bills, were some reports that his father had asked him to study. Most of them were financial and taxation forms. She also gestured to a map of the country and the surrounding lands. Crowley stood from his bed and dug out the financial trade forms, scanning until he found the form for the Gabriel’s trade report from his previous voyage. On the line for income from trade, Gabriel had listed around 40,000 pounds. Yet when he compared it to the inventory of the ship before he’d traveled, there was far more than was needed for a single trade unit. What was more, there was an inconsistency with the reports. Some of it was missing. Not an enormous amount, just enough so no one would notice it on the reports unless they looked closely, and enough that any crew members could look the other way with a decent bribe. That cargo was meant to be traded for foreign goods and distributed to local merchants, a way of keeping the countries economy strengthened for practically half the usual stock. So where had that cargo gone?

The travel report had listed only going to two of the nearby countries countries, allowing three days in each to renew the agreements with their allies and to trade, a four week trip at most. Yet the report had listed that the ship traveled for three months. That couldn’t be right.

Crowley stood from his desk and looked at the map on his wall. Directly across the channel was Himmel, another country that they had a very tumultuous relationship with. They had been at war with them before an armistice had been declared. Neither side was exactly happy with it, but decided reluctant peace was better than war. There were still people who considered them an enemy to the country and trade was made illegal last year…and the country was a month and a half away by ship. Three months both ways.

Crowley scrambled back to his desk and read the income form for the Erzengel family. 40,000 pounds. He turned to the other form, the one written by the captain of the vessel. 120,000. Where had the rest of that money gone? More importantly, where had it come from?

“Fraud!” Crowley exclaimed.

“Precisely.” Grace said with a curt nod.

“He’s trading with our old enemies and pocketing the money for himself. That’s theft of royal property! And he’s purposefully writing the wrong numbers on the cargo inventory so nobody notices the missing goods!”

“This should be enough to get him arrested?” Grace asked, wringing her ghostly hands.

“I’m not sure, I can hope.” Crowley said, looking back up at her.

Grace began pacing before another idea shone in her eyes.

"What is the penalty for threatening a member of the royal family?"

"Depending on the threat, it could be anywhere from jail time to execution." It sickened him that an alleged threat to his life was taken more seriously than a legitimate threat to one of his subjects, even with concrete proof. "Why?"

Grace said nothing, instead clasping her hands together. "I was able to borrow an extra miracle to see what had happened to my son while I was under the ground, in hopes of finding something we could use. And on the night of the ball, well...this happened."

Some of the tiny glows that were surrounding Grace began to gravitate towards her hands, encasing them in soft blue light before she pulled her hands away. Between them was a swirling mist, illuminated by the lights. The mist began to move and take form before Crowley could see five figures inside. Three were standing against a large closed door and two were standing in the center of a grand entrance hall, with the smaller of the two hunched on the ground. As the image became more detailed, he recognized them as Aziraphale, Gabriel, Sandalphon, and Aziraphale's stepsisters. The image cleared and came into a sharper focus just as Gabriel slammed his fist into Aziraphale's stomach, knocking him to the ground.

“ _This is just a ploy to see that red- headed good-for-nothing you’ve been cavorting with, isn’t it? You want to be seen on his arm like some little whore_!” Crowley's hands tightened to fists. How dare Gabriel talk to Aziraphale like that? He wanted nothing more than to crawl into the memory and give Gabriel his rightful dues.

Aziraphale in the memory sat up, his entire body trembling. “ _How did you-_ ”

“ _I have eyes all over the place, Aziraphale! You forget that I own half this town! Someone tells me they’ve seen my stepson out with some rascal, bringing shame to my family! You were planning on seeing him tonight weren’t you?_ ” Aziraphale lowered his eyes. Crowley's heart ached seeing his angel so ashamed and so afraid. It just wasn't fair that he wasn't there to defend him and comfort him. “ _So I was right_." Gabriel in the memory continued. " _You were planning on dancing the night away while he showed you off to all the town like a pretty trinket! Did you plan on going home with him tonight? Letting him bed you like the trash you are_?”

“ _W-what? No! That’s not-_ “

“ _I thought I told you to hold your tongue_!” Gabriel bellowed, following it up with another slap to Aziraphale’s face. A growl emerged from Crowley's throat and, if it were possible, his fists clenched even tighter. “ _You really are an idiot!_ ” He grabbed hold of the frilled collar of Aziraphale’s shirt, pulling him to his feet. “I _f I see you with him ever, or if I hear tell that you’re seen with him again, I’ll have him hung so fast your head will spin!_ ”

“ _No_!” Aziraphale begged. “ _No please you can’t do that! Please I love him_!”

With that final cry, the memory faded away, leaving Crowley and Grace standing alone. Crowley's head was spinning. How dare Gabriel treat Azirpahale like that? How dare he speak to him in such a way and beat him and threaten the man he loved...wait a moment. _Crowley_ was the man Aziraphale loved. _Crowley_ was that red-headed good-for-nothing that Gabriel threatened to hang.

His mind wandered back to the night of the ball, especially to the fear in Gabriel's eyes as he spoke to Crowley. That's why. He was afraid Crowley would somehow find out. That either Aziraphale or perhaps someone else in his family would betray him and tell what he'd said. So he was trying to get into the prince's good graces before his threat could be discovered.

"That should do it. Even if it is only speculated, my father takes threats to his family very seriously. Even without that, we still have the reports of fraud, that should earn him a few years."

"Won't that keep Aziraphale in danger?" Grace said, fear spiking her voice.

Crowley shook his head. "If Gabriel is in prison, he gives up his titles and property to pay his debt to the kingdom. Even if he is in prison for only one day, that's all we need. As long as he's behind bars, Aziraphale is not considered his ward."

Grace let out a sigh of relief, and Crowley could see the same light and cheerfulness that he very often saw with Aziraphale. It was an honest shame that he couldn’t speak to her longer or to have known her when she was alive. From what Aziraphale told him, she was a delight to be around at all times, after all, Aziraphale got all his best qualities from her. It was an even greater shame that she had been taken from her son so soon.

He was honestly surprised. From the looks of her ghost, she was relatively healthy when she’d died. But according to Aziraphale, even though she had been ill for weeks, the illness itself came almost out of nowhere.

“If this isn’t a sensitive topic,” Crowley asked, “how did you die?”

A pensive expression came to Grace’s face as she reminisced. “I’m not exactly sure.” She began. “One week I was perfectly healthy, the next I was sick in bed. At the end of those two weeks, I die.”

“You didn’t eat anything that made you ill?”

Grace shook her head. “I don’t have any kind of aversion to any kind of food, besides, I made all our meals and bought all the food, with a little help from Aziraphale. Well, with one exception.” She said. “My birthday, Gabriel insisted on cooking dinner that night and…” her voice trailed.

“When was your birthday?” Crowley asked.

“Two weeks before I died.” Grace said, her voice deadpanned. She shook her head, her face white with shock. “No, he wouldn’t dare. Not even Gabriel would stoop that low.”

Crowley looked back down at the reports and cargo inventory of Gabriel’s ships. While their kingdom specifically didn’t trade with many other countries of the world, one of their allies did, keeping up regular trade with China and India. Sure enough, one of the listed crates of cargo was a box of herbs, plants, and spices from China.

“Oleander.” Crowley breathed.

“What was that?” Grace asked.

“Oleander.” Crowley said, racing over to the bookshelf. His eyes carefully scanned the different spines of the different books until they settled on a book titled “ _Potent Plants: A Guide to Botany_ ”. He began flipping through the book until he found a page of a lovely reddish-pink flower with large petals. “In small doses it can be used for medicine, but too much of it can be poisonous. And Gabriel’s trading inventory showed that he came back with three crates of powdered oleander!”

“So…you’re saying he murdered me?!” Grace shouted, her anger rising with each word she spoke.

“I don’t know what I’m saying, but it looks to be that way. We can’t know for sure, but we should have grounds to arrest him for suspected murder.”

Grace sat back down on the bed, a rather numb expression coming to her face. “I brought that man into my house. And he murders me, is cruel to my son, and betrays his country!” She put her head in her hands. “What have I done?”

Crowley sat down next to her. “It isn’t your fault. People like Gabriel think that the world is owed to them and that they can get away with anything, no matter how heinous.” Grace's hands tightened to fists. "We'll make him pay for what he's done."

Grace looked back up at Crowley, a smile coming over her face. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without your help. But I do have a favor to ask of you, even though I’ve asked so much of you already.”

“Name it.” Crowley said.

“Take care of my son.” Grace said. “Please. He deserves so much more than what’s been given to him.”

Crowley awkwardly reached out his hand, taking the ghostly but still warm and almost solid hand in his own. “I swear to you, your son will want for nothing. I’ll hold him close every day and remind him just how much he is loved.”

Grace smiled, a look of relief coming to her face. “Thank you,” she said, squeezing his hand. “That means the world to me.” She placed her other hand on top of his, the way his mother used to do. “If I were still alive, I would have been proud to call you my son-in-law.” Crowley felt his face going red and Grace chuckled warmly, in only the way a mother can after she’s embarrassed her son…or in this case son-in-law. The image of her began to waver, fading back to the figure of light that she was earlier, but as she faded from view, Crowley could still hear her kind voice speaking to him. “I’ll tell Lilith you say hello.”

With that final promise, the glow faded and his room was back to darkness, but the warmth and the gentle atmosphere were still there.

Crowley took the small box from the bedside table again, looking at the silver and brass rings inside. A new surge of determination and willpower rose in him. Before the day was out tomorrow, Aziraphale would be away from those horrible people. And as soon as Crowley made sure he was safe and happy and away from harm, he would ask Aziraphale to marry him.

He set the box back on the table and settled in to sleep. Tomorrow held quite a challenge for him, but he was ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all. It's coming to a head now isn't it?  
> So, this week has been a bit tiring for me. Classes are getting more demanding as we get closer to the end of the semester (we started early so we're going to end early too) and I'm worried I won't have time to finish it all while still doing the other personal projects that I want to do, like knitting Christmas/Hanukkah gifts for people. Plus my self deprecating thoughts are starting to creep back in again. I don't mean to unload like this, it just kinda helps me process.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed that chapter. Crowley to the rescue am I right? Gosh I can't believe two more chapters until we're done. I don't want to get too sentimental now, I'll save that for the end but it's a little hard to believe it's come this far. To all you smart cookies who were theorizing that Gabriel's voyages were a little suspicious or that he had a hand in Grace's death, good job to you all. Okay this author's note is getting rather lengthy, so I'll see you in the next chapter. Kudos and comments are always appreciated. Thank you so much for reading and have a lovely day.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Discussion of abuse, depictions and descriptions of previous injury, and discussions of sexual assault and attempted rape

Crowley was up with the dawn, dressed and ready in less than an hour and there was a determined quickness to his steps as he walked towards his father’s office. At first, he was nervous to bring this up with his father, he might think that Crowley had made it up for the sake of getting Gabriel arrested, but he had to at least try. He owed it to Aziraphale. And to Grace

What had she even meant when she said Aziraphale was in danger? Yes he was being abused and it was horrible, but it was thankfully never a threat to his life…but that could easily change.

His steps picked up as he made his way to his father’s office and he had to keep himself from barging in, though his knock on the door was hardly becoming of someone who was supposed to be dignified.

“Enter.” His father’s voice sounded from the other side of the door.

Crowley burst into the office, doing his best to keep himself under control. “Father, I have a new development.”

His father looked up from his desk. “Anthony, you’re up early. What is it?”

“I was looking over the records of our trade and it seems one of the vessels has been making unprecedented journeys to Himmel.”

His father stood from his desk, anger in his eyes. “What?!” He roared.

“That’s not all.” Crowley said, showing the pay ledgers and records of the cargo. “According to these documents, there have been a number of voyages where cargo has been listed as being on the ship while the captain’s reports say that the cargo hold was empty. It’s my belief that not only is the person in charge of the voyage selling our cargo to our enemies, but also selling cargo from our allies to them as well, pocketing the money for himself.”

His father grew red in the face as he inspected the documents, absolutely fuming by the time he’d finished. “How did we not see this sooner? All this time this theft was happening right under our noses?”

“That’s not all.” Crowley said. “We don’t have all the evidence, but it’s been suspected that he’s also guilty of murder and suspected of threatening my life.”

“WHAT?!” His father’s booming voice practically shook the office. “Who is it? WHO?!”

“Are you sure you want to know father?” Crowley said. “It may only anger you further to find out.”

“I don’t care if it’s the bloody duke! Anyone who steals from me and threatens my family and murders my people has to pay! Now tell me who. Is. It?!”

“Gabriel Erzengel.” Crowley said. A look of disbelief came over his father’s face as he looked back at the documents in his hands. Sure enough, there was Gabriel’s name and signature. He also presented his father with the coroners report from Grace's death and a cargo order with the crates of oleander. For a moment, his father’s face was utterly unreadable and for a moment, Crowley thought that his father wouldn’t believe him. Perhaps he’d think that Crowley was simply making things up to get Gabriel arrested.

“I can’t believe this.” His father breathed. Crowley’s breath caught in his throat. “He was stealing from us and I trusted him! I trusted that scoundrel and let him get away with theft and murder!”

“Don’t blame yourself, Father.” Crowley said, trying to be as respectful as possible, though in reality he was fuming himself. “He has the trust of half the kingdom, and the money of the other half.”

His father stomped back over to his desk, pulling out a set of parchment. “This will not go unpunished.” He said, dipping the quill. “I’ll have him arrested so fast-“

“With all due respect, Father,” Crowley interrupted, “I wish to be the one to order the arrest.”

The look his father gave him made it clear that he wasn’t pleased with this request. But the anger on his face cleared after a bit of thought, going back to neutral as sighed and slipped off his ring, bearing the royal seal, from his finger and passed it to his son.

“I’ll allow it.”

Crowley bowed to his father before leaving his office and rushing back towards his bedroom. He made quick work of writing the arrest warrants for Gabriel and Sandalphon, sealing it with the coat of arms of the kingdom and making it official.

A knock came to his door.

“Come in!” He called, the adrenaline still clear in his voice.

The door opened and Beelzebub stepped inside. “Whoa, you’re a beehive today.” They said.

Crowley signed his name at the bottom of the two sheets of parchment with a quick swish of his quill and looked back at his sibling as he waited for the ink to dry.

“I figured it out last night. I know how to take Gabriel down.” He rolled up the parchments, tying them off with a red cord. “I’m just about to make the arrests now, as a matter of fact.” A sly look came over his sibling’s face. “Want to come along?”

“You know it.”

Crowley called a servant to return the ring to his father before he and Beelzebub made their way down to the fourth wing, where the guards and knights resided. The sergeant greeted them at the door to the communal hall the men all shared for recreation or study or whatever they did in their downtime.

“Yer highnesses?” Shadwell gawked. “What are ye doin’ down ‘ere? Is somthin’ up with yer fatha?”

“No this is a matter I need to take care of. Do you have any men who are off duty you can spare?”

The sergeant grinned. “Aye, about a dozen. What’s the need?”

“I have a few arrests that need to be made.”

Crowley explained the situation, briefing them on the people they were arresting and the crimes that had been committed. They had been livid when he’d explained Gabriel had been cheating and stealing from the kingdom, outraged when they heard that Sandalphon had tried to force himself on an innocent man, and absolutely furious when the topic of the threat to the prince's life and possible murder had been brought up, especially when the one killed was Grace Principalitus (who had been a schoolteacher to many of the men). By the time the briefing was finished and they had all read the arrest warrants, they were practically clamoring to make the arrests. In less than an hour, the men were in full uniform with their swords clipped onto their belts and their horses saddled

Crowley led the charge, driving Mercury to run as fast as he could (which was saying quite a lot). Directly behind him was Beelzebub, acting as a sort of second in command. Behind them were about six soldiers, two of them flanking Crowley and two flanking Beelzebub. A seventh soldier was driving a prison wagon and an eighth (though Crowley hoped he wouldn’t need it) was driving a simple coach, in case anyone was injured and couldn’t ride their horses back. Crowley was certain that none of the soldiers would retain any serious injuries, if they even got hurt at all. But the coach wasn’t for them.

He only had one thought on his mind as he led the soldiers through the front gate and down the path towards the village.

_I’m coming, Aziraphale. Just hold on._

They received quite a few strange looks as they rode through town. Several people looked on with absolute terror in their eyes, but most of them were intrigued. As they passed the tailor shop, Adam came running out to watch the procession. A look of wild fascination came to the lad’s eyes as he began to run after them, shouting encouragement.

“Go get the bad guys! Throw ‘em in prison!”

Crowley would have been impressed and rather tickled by the boy’s enthusiasm, and perhaps bring up the idea of being trained as a squire if he wanted, but the situation at hand was far more pressing and his attention was captured by leading the soldiers and his sibling to the Erzengel estate.

Crowley had seen the outside of the family manor many times when he had escorted Aziraphale home. It was certainly a grand place, but now seeing it just made him even more angry. It was just a facade. A distraction. Sure it was well built, large, and luxurious but the people who lived in it were nothing but selfish, abusive liars. All but one that is.

Crowley tugged at the reins and Mercury skidded to a halt, whinnying loudly as Crowley turned to face his entourage.

“Remember, Gabriel and Sandalphon Erzengel are to be arrested but not harmed. We’re not animals and I don’t want to make this any more violent than it has to be. They may give themselves without protest, they may put up a fight. Be prepared to defend yourselves, but do not cause immediate harm.” Crowley was partially lying. He would have loved to see both of them in as much pain as possible, but he wanted to make their punishments his personal project. But that could wait until later.

He dismounted and pulled the two arrest warrants from his belt before stalking up to the front door of the estate, pounding his fist against it. There was a small part of him that hoped it would be Aziraphale to open the door and greet them, that Crowley could just let the soldiers take care of the arrest and he and Aziraphale could just ride back to the castle. But, that hope dwindled away as soon as the door opened and a young woman with light brown hair and a thin mouth greeted them. As soon as she saw Crowley, she lit up like a fireplace at yuletide and she moved to smooth out her decadent dress, but as soon as she saw the soldiers behind him, she went as pale as a sheet of paper.

“Excuse me, miss.” Crowley said, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. “This is the home of Gabriel Erzengel?”

“Yes. He’s my father.” The young woman replied, eying the soldiers.

“Is he at home?”

“He’s just through here. F-follow me.” The young woman looked like she was going to faint as she led the entourage through the foyer and into the drawing room, where another young woman with ebony skin and short curly black hair was sitting on a little sofa with an embroidery hoop on her lap. Gabriel was studying a nautical chart with Sandalphon sitting next to him, discussing the voyage in two days. As soon as Crowley and the soldiers entered the room, all three of them rose to her feet. The taller of the young women, the one with the light brown hair, ran to the other young woman, who must have been her sister, and clung to her, both had looks of abject terror across their faces. Crowley pulled the first scroll out of his belt.

“Sandalphon Erzengel,” he read, “by decree of the King Lucious Teufel the first, you are herby under arrest for the crimes of assault of a sexually predatory nature, attempted rape, and for attempting to engage in sexual activity with a family member. Pending trial, you are to be held in the dungeon without bail.”

“What?!” Sandalphon roared.

“Do not resist, we will not hesitate to use force.” Beelzebub growled as Crowley glanced to two of the guards. They flanked Sandalphon on either side and took a hold of his arms, forcing them behind his back, and leading him back through the foyer.

“This is an outrage!” Sandalphon bellowed. “You can’t arrest me! I’ve done nothing wrong! The boy is lying! Whatever he told you is a lie!” Something about the law Crowley was rather happy for, despite its outdated history, was the punishment for sexual assault. Not that Sandalphon or anyone else who thought they were above the law, knew the punishment, and Crowley would keep it that way for a little longer. Maybe he would save it for the trial so he could see the look on Sandalphon’s face when he learned he’d be castrated for his crime.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Gabriel said, rage in his eyes. “My brother is innocent of any crimes! How dare you march into my house, threaten and arrest my brother-"

“Gabriel Erzengel,” Crowley read, cutting off Gabriel’s enraged demands, “by decree of King Lucious Teufel the first, you are herby under arrest for the crimes of theft of royal property, taxation and merchant fraud, for engaging in illegal trade with the kingdom of Himmel, threatening the life of a prince, and the suspected murder of Grace Principalitus."

"Father?!" The young woman with the light brown hair shrieked. "You...you killed stepmother?"

"He's lying." Gabriel barked as two soldiers grabbed his arms. "This is utter madness. None of this is true." Neither of the girls looked like they believed him.

"Pending trial, you are to be held in-”

“Even if I’m in jail, you won’t be able to marry Aziraphale!” Gabriel roared.

Crowley’s blood went cold. His father had already given his blessing to marry Aziraphale, and it wouldn’t matter if Gabriel didn’t give his if he were in jail. Nothing else was keeping them apart. Unless…

A deep seated rage took ahold of Crowley and his collected demeanor shattered, revealing the fury underneath.

“Where is Aziraphale?!” Crowley shouted, grabbing Gabriel by the collar. Gabriel smiled, staying silent.

Beelzebub looked over to the remaining guard. “Newton, search the house.” The guard saluted and ran off.

“Where is Aziraphale?!” Crowley asked again. “Where is he?!”

“I killed him.” Gabriel hissed, the smile still slapped across his face.

An icy fear dropped into Crowley’s stomach that crept up his spine and into his chest. A bead of sweat dripped down his next and he felt like he was going to throw up.

No. No he didn’t. No no no no no!

“You bastard!” Crowley screamed, the ice in his veins replaced with hot, boiling rage. “You monster! I’ll have you hanged for this! Drawn and quartered and thrown into the ocean for what you’ve done! I’ll make it so you-”

A pair of strong hands firmly grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him back, away from Gabriel. No! He hand to make him pay! Make him bleed!

“Take him away!” Beelzebub ordered, holding Crowley’s shoulders. The soldiers began escorting Gabriel away. He went willingly, with a satisfied smirk on his face. The guard returned from his search, finding nothing but the two frightened sisters and Beelzebub holding their brother. Crowley looked at Newton expectantly but the young man just shook his head.

“Escort these two outside so they can say goodbye to their father and uncle, and then report to your next up for what to do next." Beelzebub ordered. "Make sure they’re given lodging and make sure they are under tight watch until we decide what to do with them.” The young soldier saluted as well, looking somewhat unsure of himself as he escorted the sisters outside, leaving the two princes alone.

“He didn’t.” Crowley stammered, sitting down onto the couch. “He couldn’t have…Aziraphale can’t be dead!” He gripped his hair as angry tears began to pour from his eyes. “He was so kind. He was so kind and sweet and caring and…he can’t be dead!” Beelzebub pulled their brother into a tight embrace as Crowley angrily beat his fists against their shoulder.

“How could he?!” Crowley nearly screamed. “How could Gabriel do that?! Aziraphale never hurt anyone!” Now he was shaking, looking at his sibling, rage, despair, and horrible pain visible in his eyes. “I loved him.” He murmured. “I loved him and Gabriel just…took him away.” He dropped his head into his hands, as everything mixed together inside him. A sickening blend of every negative emotion one could possibly feel gripped his heart, before slowly dying away to a numb emptiness.

“Your highnesses,” a quiet voice said. The guard had returned with the sisters, the younger of the two standing closer to the princes than the other.

“Not now.” Beelzebub growled to the young woman.

“I need to report this, it’s important.”

“What?” Crowley said, not even bothering to look up at her.

"My father told my sister and I that he killed Aziraphale as well." She began. "But we heard a voice coming from the other side of his bedroom door. Almost like a groan. And it very much sounded like his voice." 

“Where is it?” Crowley asked. 

“Just through the kitchen, that way.” The young said, pointing out of the living room. Crowley leapt to his feet and raced out of the drawing room, Beelzebub following close behind. Crowley didn’t want to get his hopes up. He refused to let his happiness be dashed again. But he couldn’t stop a tiny glimmer from sparking inside his chest.

The two princes ran into a lavish dining room and into a large kitchen. Tucked away in a corner was a wooden door that looked like it lead to a closet or something similar. Crowley grabbed the knob and gave a turn only for it to stay where it was.

“Find something to break the lock. O-or pick it or something. Quick!” Crowley said frantically. Beelzebub began searching the different drawers while Crowley pressed his ear against the door. It was faint, but he could hear a raspy breath coming from behind the splintering wood. A few more tears came to his eyes as a familiar voice whispered his name.

“Crowley…”

“Hurry!” He called. Beelzebub pulled a slim but very sharp knife from one of the drawers.

“Will this work?” They asked.

“Perfect.” He said, taking the knife and jamming it into the lock, giving it a sharp turn. There was a loud click and the knob turned under his grip.

He opened the door and gasped. Lying on a little bed made of straw was Aziraphale. His Aziraphale. His clothing was filthy and ripped in several places, he was covered in bruises, with a very large gash on his forehead that was dripping blood down his cheek, he was pale with sweat running down his face, blood trickling from his lips, and his left ankle and leg and right wrist were bent at a raw angle but he was breathing. He was alive. Thank Somebody, he was still alive.

Crowley bent down near the mat, cupping Aziraphale’s pale face.

“Aziraphale.” Crowley said softly. “Come on, Angel. Open your eyes for me.”

Aziraphale’s eyelids fluttered before they opened, revealing those beautiful sky blue eyes.

“C-Cro-wley…” Aziraphale stammered lifting his good hand to touch Crowley’s face. The touch was weak and his hand was trembling, but to Crowley it was the most beautiful thing in the world. “You..you’re…”

“Ssh.” Crowley soothed, brushing a few of the damp curls off from his forehead. “It’s alright, Angel. I’m here now. I’m right here.” As gently as he could, Crowley swept the blonde into his arms.

“W-where…what…” Aziraphale gasped, looking around.

“It’s alright. I’ve got you. We’re going somewhere safe.”

Crowley carried him out of the kitchen and back out into the foyer and out of the house. The prison wagon had been driven away and the rest of the soldiers and the two young women were waiting out on the front lawn. Crowley didn’t even notice the stares that he and Aziraphale were receiving, he didn’t care. All that mattered was that he had Aziraphale back, nestled in his arms. His angel.

He climbed into the spare coach, instructing two of the soldiers to lead Mercury and the brown mare in the stable back to the castle before instructing the driver to move, shutting the door.

Aziraphale was trembling in his arms, clinging to him.

“It’s alright.” Crowley whispered, untying his cape from his shoulders and wrapping it around Aziraphale before laying a soft kiss against his temple. “You’re safe.”

* * * * *

Crowley refused to leave Aziraphale’s side, even as afternoon passed into evening. Aziraphale was fast asleep in Crowley's bed (because the prince refused to let him have anything but the finest comfort in the castle), breathing slowly and nestled among a mess of soft pillows and blankets. Crowley had stayed with him while the doctor had examined his injuries, bandaged the cuts and lacerations, and bound the broken wrist, broken leg and sprained ankle. The blonde was unconscious the entire time but would still whimper or groan in pain. Crowley stayed with him tenderly holding his uninjured hand and rubbing gently circles along his knuckles.

Far after everyone else had gone to bed, Crowley still remained seated by his angel’s bedside, hoping to offer whatever comfort he could.

The clock struck twelve in the distance, signaling to the sleeping town that it was midnight. A new day had arrived.

A glow appeared in the corner of Crowley’s vision and when he looked up, the ghostly figure of Aziraphale’s mother had appeared beside the bed. She looked down at Aziraphale, a warm smile across her face as she touched his cheek.

“My darling son.” She whispered, laying a loving kiss on his forehead. “I’ll always love you.”

She turned to face Crowley, the smile still across her lips.

“Thank you.” She said before her shimmering image disappeared. She was gone as the last chime echoed through the air.

“C-Crowley?” A small voice said. Aziraphale had opened his eyes and was looking around nervously, his eyes still clouded by a sleepy haze.

“It’s alright, Angel.” Crowley said, taking Aziraphale's hand again. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be right here.” Slowly, Azirpahale’s eyes drifted closed again as Crowley lifted his hand to his lips. “I won’t leave you. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap only one chapter left! I won't get too sentimental now I'll just save that for next week. At least Aziraphale is finally safe with Crowley getting all the rest and comfort and love he deserves.  
> I hope you all enjoyed that chapter, I certainly enjoyed writing it. Kudos and comments are always appreciated. Thank you so much for reading and have a lovely day.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: References to past abuse, descriptions of beating and starvation, and self deprecating thoughts

He was warm. Warm and comfortable, laying on something soft, his head cradled by something round and fluffy.

Was this heaven? Was he dead?

The last thing he remembered clearly was Gabriel and Sandalphon beating him before losing consciousness.

Everything after that was in bits and pieces. He remembered the most horrid pain he'd ever experienced, a brief instance of his arm being laid over the stone bench in the garden and his wrist crushed by something heavy, he remembered being tossed into his room, Gabriel working to fix the lock, keeping Aziraphale trapped in the dark, he remembered hunger, the worst gnawing starvation he could imagine, and he remembered feeling horribly ill. But there was one moment at the end where everything was lovely. Crowley was holding him and whispering such sweet things to him, then he was floating, wrapped in something soft and warm. And for a moment he could have sworn he saw his mother standing over him and kissing his forehead.

No he couldn’t have been dead. His body ached too much and he could feel his pulse thumping in his neck.

Aziraphale opened his eyes and a stream of morning sunlight filled his vision. He blinked a few times, getting a better look at his surroundings. He was lying in a bed with a golden canopy hanging over the four posts. His body was covered by a fine, wool nightshirt, tied off with a blue silk ribbon. There were blankets covering him, the one on top made of a fine red fabric.

Whosever room this was, it was grand and luxurious. The walls were a soft sunset red, on one wall, opposite a large window, was a bookshelf and a writing desk tucked into the corner. On the wall opposite the bed was a fireplace, where someone was stoking a roaring fire. Aziraphale could see a few stray strands from the person’s head, just as red and brilliant as the flames they were stoking.

“Crowley?” His voice was nothing but a tired murmur. Crowley turned to him, a look of pure joy and relief on his face as he rushed to the bedside.

“Good morning, Angel.” He said softly.

“Good morning.” Aziraphale said groggily as he looked at the prince's face. The poor dear looked like he hadn't slept in weeks and looked stressed beyond belief. "Are you alright, dear boy? You look dreadful."

“Never mind me. How do _you_ feel?” Crowley asked, tucking a few curls behind the blonde’s ear.

“Sore.” Aziraphale groaned. “Ga…Gabriel really did a number on me, didn’t he?” He’d meant it as a joke to try and make light of the aches running all over his body, but from the way the easy smile ran away from Crowley’s face, he could tell that he didn’t find it that funny.

“I’m so sorry. I should have done something sooner. I wanted to, but I didn’t know where to start and-"

“Oh Crowley.” Aziraphale murmured, lifting a hand to gently cup his prince’s cheek. The soft feel of his skin and the tickle of the familiar stubble reminded him that this was real, that this wasn’t just a dream and he’d open his eyes to find that Crowley was gone forever. “If anyone needs to apologize, my dear, it’s me.”

“What?” Crowley asked, his face taking on a puzzled expression.

“I ran away from you didn’t I?” Aziraphale explained, the shame and guilt clear in his voice. “You gave me the most wonderful night of my life and I repay you by pushing you away. That’s all I ever did. You only ever wanted to help me and to stay by my side and I…” there were tears coming to his eyes, “all I ever did was push you away. I-I thought you’d be furious with me.”

“No, Angel.” He gently kissed Aziraphale’s hand. “You were scared. I could see it. You were just scared. And I’m not angry. I never was.”

“Crowley, I…” he was cut off by a tired sob, “I’m so, so sorry. I never meant to hurt you and…”

“Sshh.” Crowley soothed, lowering his hand to Aziraphale’s face, brushing his tears away. “You didn’t. You did nothing wrong. I could never be angry with you.”

Aziraphale lowered his eyes, the guilt still filling him. “I wouldn’t blame you if you ever changed your mind.” He said with a large sigh. “It’s not fair to you to have to deal with my faults and shortcomings. I know how much of a disappointment I am-"

“You stop right there.” Crowley said, gently turning Aziraphale’s head back to face him. “You are the furthest thing from a disappointment. You are gentle, kind, sweet, funny and so so very strong. You are not a failure or a waste of time or any of those horrible things Gabriel made you think you were.” Crowley gently set a hand on Aziraphale’s head, tenderly running his fingers through the soft curls. “He won’t hurt you anymore. None of them will.”

“You don’t mean…” Aziraphale said, a small bit of hope rising inside him, but it was poisoned by fear. Crowley may have been a prince but Gabriel was as ruthless as Crowley was kind. He wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted or until he felt he’d gotten justice against someone who wronged him, no matter who they were. And once he had come back from wherever he was, he would most certainly take it out on Aziraphale.

Crowley noticed the terrified look on his face and quieted the fears in his mind with a tender kiss to the temple. “Gabriel and Sandalphon were arrested yesterday. Once my Father heard the crimes they’d committed, he issued that they be imprisoned without bail until more fitting punishments can be issued. And your stepsisters are currently staying with one of the servants until we’re able to find more permanent accommodations and occupations for them. Far away from you.”

“Crowley, how did you manage this?” Aziraphale asked, utterly flabbergasted but too overwhelmed by the other emotions rising up inside him to make heads or tails of what he was feeling.

“I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but I had a little help from your mother.”

“Mum…” Aziraphale breathed, remembering her soft kiss on his forehead and her gentle arms holding him. Among the rest of the noise in his mind, something else stood out in his head.

“ _My darling son. I’ll always love you_.”

A peace that he hadn’t felt in a long time settled in his chest. His mother had been there watching over him, and she had loved him all the while.

“Oh that reminds me.” Crowley said, reaching into his pocket. Aziraphale couldn’t see what he was doing but when he lifted his hand, a familiar shimmer of brass caught his eye.

“My mother’s ring!” Aziraphale let out in a joyful gasp as Crowley took his left hand and slipped the ring onto his pinky. Aziraphale looked at his hand, a smile coming to his face before looking back at Crowley, a beautiful, comforting warmth coming over his heart. “Thank you. For everything.”

Crowley reached out a gentle hand to cup Aziraphale’s cheek, brushing a gentle path along his cheekbone with his thumb. He said nothing, but his eyes told Aziraphale everything. Crowley was his, for now and for always. He would always do anything to protect him, keep him safe, make him happy. He was truly and utterly devoted to him.

For the last eight years of his life, Aziraphale had been made to believe that he was nothing but a useless disappointment, a failure of a son. He’d never had someone love him and care for him so truly and so deeply since his mother died. But Crowley loved him. Loved every bit of him from the ends of his blonde curls to the tips of his toes. And for the first time in a very long time, Aziraphale was truly content.

“Your mother’s house is empty, you know.” Crowley said, breaking Aziraphale from his thoughts. “If you wanted to go back.” There was something sad in his voice. He wanted Aziraphale to be the one to make the decision, but he didn’t want Aziraphale to leave.

“If I’m being honest, my dearest,” Aziraphale said, “I don’t think I do. There are so many reminders in that house of times I’d rather forget. Aside from the books in my mother’s library, there’s not much I have there. Besides,” he reached for Crowley’s hand, “why would I want to go back there when you’re here?” Crowley’s entire face went red. After taking a few moments to gather himself, the prince took Aziraphale’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, and still held it tight, scared that if his grip was too soft Aziraphale would slip away again. “Crowley?” Aziraphale asked.

“Mhm?”

“At the ball, before I ran away, you were about to ask me a question. I do believe I’m ready to hear it now.”

Another look of shock came over Crowley’s face, the blush deepening as he fumbled for something in his pocket. He took a breath, steadying himself as he opened the box and held it out to Aziraphale.

“Aziraphale Caleb Principalitus,” he began, “my brave, beautiful angel. Will you make me the happiest person in the world and be my husband?” Inside the box was a silver band, engraved with vines wrapping around a pair of angel wings, just like the pair on his mother’s ring.

Aziraphale smiled, his heart swelling and tears of utter joy coming to his eyes. “I will.” He whispered. “I will I will I will!”

A wide smile came over Crowley’s face as well as he slipped the ring onto Aziraphale’s finger and began to lay soft, sweet kissed over his knuckles.

A sly chuckle escaped from Aziraphale. “I don’t know how becoming it is to give an order to a prince,” he said. Crowley looked up and raised an eyebrow at him, “but Anthony Crowley Teufel, you get down here and you kiss me properly.”

Crowley let out a warm, hearty laugh as he sat down on the mattress and leaned down over Aziraphale, close enough that he was only a breath away.

“With pleasure.” He whispered before gently kissing him.

It was just as sweet and loving as their first one and it was a renewal of that promise made that night under the willow tree. There would be many more kisses, many more years of happiness and love. Aziraphale would wake up and fall asleep every morning and every night in Crowley’s arms, warm and safe and loved. The time for misery and loneliness was behind him, behind both of them. They’d always have each other, no matter what.

Crowley broke the kiss, letting out a contented sigh.

“I don’t have a whole lot that I need to do today.” He said. “I think my father would let me get away with spending a day lazing in bed, helping you with your recovery.”

“Mmm,” Aziraphale breathed a sigh of his own, “that sounds lovely.”

Crowley kicked off his boots and lay down next to Aziraphale, tucking his arm under the blonde’s back and pulling him close. As Aziraphale snuggled next to his prince, taking in the smokey scent of his skin, he felt truly contented. Truly free. Truly home.

This wasn’t happily ever after.

This was so much more.

~*The end*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. It's actually over. I actually finished it. It's a little bittersweet to tell you the truth but you would not believe how proud I am to have written this. Every time I'm feeling down, I always log on and read the sweet things everyone has said about this story. You guys have made this such an amazing journey and I'm so glad and grateful to everyone who has stuck by me, taken the time to leave comments and give kudos, it warms my heart so greatly and makes me feel so very loved.  
> When I started this story back in July, I had no idea it would ever become this well loved. You all are so wonderful. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. Thank you so much.  
> That may be the last chapter of _Angel in Cinders_ but fear not I'm far from done. This is just part one in a series of Good Omens/Fairy Tale fashions. The next one is already in progress and I'm close to being done with mapping out the chapters. I hope all of you stick around to read it. And if you can't wait that long, please feel free to check out some of the other works that I've written. I have quite a few one shots and two other WIPs that I'm working on, including a story called _Godfathers_ about a young woman who discovers she is half angel and half demon and seeks out Crowley and Aziraphale's help and another called _Shelter from the Storm_ which takes place about three years after the notpocalypse and has Crowley and Aziraphale giving shelter to a homeless teenager. I hope to see all of you again soon.  
> Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for taking this journey with me. All of you, have a lovely day! I hope to see you next time!


End file.
